


To Hell and back

by fluffychanel



Category: Bleach
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Elements of Burn the Witch, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prostitution, Sugar Daddy, Uke Aizen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2020-10-21 06:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 129,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffychanel/pseuds/fluffychanel
Summary: Never make a pact with the Devil, for you can’t fool the King of Hell. A story in which Aizen gets a taste of his own medicine.Pairings: Urahara KisukeXAizen Sousuke, Kyouraku ShunsuiXAizen Sousuke, Kurosaki IchigoXAizen Sousuke, Jaeggerjaques GrimmjowXAizen Sousuke, Kuchiki ByakuyaXAizen Sousuke and Hirako ShinjiXAizen Sousuke. If some of the couples aren’t your thing, don’t worry, there are plenty to chose from, so your favourite will come along either way. Because unlike a monogamous relationship, the focus of this story will not be on one single couple.Status = Active





	1. Rearrangements

**Author's Note:**

> Another polygamous relationship... somehow I’m beginning to get addicted to Aizen serving a harem of suitors...I mean with him being such a ‘God’, it’s the least he deserves...  
In comparison to, ‘The Legacy’ though, I’m not going to mix in pregnancy and Aizen is very naughty in this fic because he’s going to purposely keep those relationships a secret, they don’t know about each other which makes it not entirely a polygamous relationship until the secrets are out...of course. 
> 
> I’m also taking the basic background of my story, ‘Claimed’ and applying it here, but without the added Character Death. For those who haven’t read the story; Aizen was allowed to escape from Hell by making a pact with the King of Hell (The Devil). The only downside to the pact was that Aizen had to learn how to survive as a Succubus. In this story though, his pact takes a different turn. After all, who would dare trust the King of Hell? 
> 
> And since I didn’t particularly like Hell verse, I’m changing the whole concept of Hell as well.

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/Sub, bondage, prostitution... a lot of kinks, give me some requests and I’ll maybe apply it. Keep in mind, the story isn’t solely sex. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach, all properties belong to Tite Kubo.

**Chapter one: Rearrangements**

Sousuke hadn't expected the offer, hadn't even hoped to get out of Hell without at least a decent foolproof plan and that could take ages. Observing the environment and its security would come first, infiltration which would include schmoozing his way up the ranks, next, it was by no means an operation that could be done in a matter of seconds. 

Subtlety was everything, obviously. He had all the time in the world...

Had. He was no longer immortal, since Urahara had managed to remove the Hogyoku after the Quincy war. And that had meant he was eligible for a spot in Hell.

With all the reformations after Bach, came a whole new incarceration system. Central 46 still claimed the spot of 'justified' judges by deciding on the convict's fate. The Maggots Nest was no longer a facility that imprisoned the most dangerous, but had grown into a centre that sought to rehabilitate those that were deemed 'sane' enough by Central to eventually get back into society. It went without saying that those sort of convicts were only penalised for so called petty crimes; such as stealing, fighting, substance abuse and of course also for selling such addictive means. 

It would come as no surprise that most of these convicts originated from the Rukongai, where manners and good behaviour was a rather scarce concept. So rehabilitation was the key to get them back on the right track. 

Muken was still functioning as Central prison and now incarcerated mostly murders and rapists. No treatment was deemed possible for such individuals, they would be unable to function normally in society and thus complete isolation and entrapment was therefore seen as the best punishment. 

While murder, rape and other unsavoury crimes ran just as rampant in the Rukongai, the convicts were only penalised for such deeds if they had dared to harm a Gotei soldier. Squabbles, theft and assault among Rukon people was not even sanctioned. You couldn't expect the districts without money nor education to behave properly after all... And as long as that tumult remained stationed in the degenerate district, all was good. The perfect balance needed to be retained, even at the cost of the better Souls. 

But Muken was no longer the highest authority, it apparently didn’t serve as a thorough deterrence. At least not when it concerned the highest form of crime; which would be conspiracy, treachery and assault against the Law of the Seireitei. And let that be the category Sousuke had been slotted into, along with the remaining Quincy. Reintroducing the death penalty was no option, Soul Society endeavoured to modernise, and not move backwards in time, so the next best thing was opening Hell's Gates, for everyone. It was no longer the underworld for Hollows and humans that had lived an immoral lifestyle, but now also for the Shinigami and Quincy as well. 

Although he was the only Shinigami currently locked behind Hell's gates... The only reason for that he speculated was because the Soul King had agreed on allowing Shinigami to enter Hell, but only because they had to find a means to get rid of him... Central 46 would be all too eager to vote in agreement...which they had done. 

And so he had found himself wasting away in the depths of Hell, chained like a dog and under constant surveillance by Hell’s guards. A far cry from Muken where his energy had been locked in a dormant state and he had had plenty of privacy...

He didn’t know how long he had been stuck in the underworld, but he felt the physical and mental drainage. The Hogyoku was no longer there to nourish his Reiryoku and his Reiatsu was still forced in a dormant state, but unlike Muken, the bleak environment did affect him.

Until the King of Hell called for him.

The King of Hell, also known as the Devil, embodied the opposite of the Souk King. Both in appearance and in function to Soul Society. The Soul King regulated the balance and everything or anyone that imbalanced that flow was sent off to Hell. Which didn’t exactly make the Soul King this pure form, but alas he would digress... As for appearance, instead of a white humanoid physique, the King of Hell held a red-orange glow around him. His hair was an even brighter orange and spiked wildly as if representing a fire. 

Sousuke straightened up in his seiza position in front of the black metallic throne, the air and temperature was stuffy because of the sea of lava underneath the platform, making it difficult to breathe. So maybe he had heard incorrectly... 

He was offered a chance to redeem himself? Absolute salvation of his crimes and even be able to restore his powers fully?

Most important though, what would he have to give in replacement of his freedom? 

When he asked though, the King of Hell laughed, the sounds coming from deep within his gut, since he practically doubled over in amusement.

What was so funny? He was no fool, such a generous offer had to be riddled with consequences, obviously.

“I’ve forgotten how dull life can be here after the initial terror leaves the newest inmates. So, entertain me, amuse me.” The King of Hell swung his own zanpakuto with a flourishing whoosh before the trident shaped blades were placed underneath Sousuke’s chin to get him to look up into the scrutinising yellow eyes. The scalding hot metal made him instinctively draw back a bit. “Show me that you can still trick others and this time without the help of your dear zanpakuto.”

His lips quirked up on their own accord. Was that all? Not much of a challenge. His charm was all he needed, even after his reputation had hit rock bottom. There were plenty of aspiring healers that were up to rehabilitating him or worse unstable women that were drawn to his ‘bad boy’ personality.

“Certainly.”

The King of Hell smirked, razor shark like teeth gave the Devil suddenly a grim appearance. “By binding yourself through a Bloodbond to at least six different male partners.”

The irony of the number...

That was apparently the drawback and the king’s reason to grin. A Bloodbond was rarely consented to, unlike a normal bond, which had similarities akin to a human marriage in terms of consummation and annulment. The only dissolution for a Bloodbond was through death. Who in their right mind would willingly consent to a partnership that would put their life in his hands? Even if he had found a partner that was liable to bond to him, a Bloodbond sobered up that blinding love easily. He would have to earn his partner’s trust...which could take longer than he had hoped to spent on the Devil’s silly little game.

Power made one come up with the most foolish of ideas, maybe something he had been fond of as well in his superior days... But, at least his ideas had made him a grandeur throughout all of his achievements.

The hot metal of the pitchforked zanpakuto drew his attention back to the Devil with a nudge under his chin which made him jump at the blazing radiance, much to the King’s amusement.

“Before you get on your high horse, your partners must at least be of captain level.” 

The effortless haze he had basked in completely vanished at that. Captain level? Was anyone of that rank, or previous bearer, still daft enough to fall for his schemes? 

-0-

When Shunsui was allowed entry into the Kuchiki estate by the attendants, he immediately set his pace towards Byakuya’s personal chamber. It was near midnight, but Byakuya’s birthday gift honestly couldn’t be bestowed in broad daylight...

To his surprise the Kuchiki heir was still awake, because he was not found in his futon. One of the maids though assured him that Byakuya would be welcoming his arrival shortly. All that waiting would make him thirsty though. Byakuya wouldn’t be exactly hurrying up specifically for him.

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” he told the suddenly blushing maid and before she could go, he gave a quick pat just above her ass. It was no harassment as long as his touch didn’t fall directly on her ass... “Could you bring me something to drink?” The squeak though was still delightful to hear...

“Tea has just been made...”

He chuckled and cocked his head. She should know better, this wasn’t his first visit to the Kuchiki estate.

“Helping yourself to my liquor, Kyouraku-san?”

He had felt the breeze that accompanied Byakuya’s shunpou, before hearing the rhetorical question. When he glanced back at Byakuya though, he saw that the lord of the estate was still dressed in a black formal kimono. Such dark colours in his spare time...That used to be different... 

“Still mourning, Byakuya-kun?” Byakuya visibly bristled at his endearing suffix. “And here I thought that you had finally managed to process the bonding of your lieutenant to your sister...” 

His comment went ignored and instead Byakuya commanded his maid, “Bring him something to drink, he’s far too sober to my liking.”

Byakuya still stood in the doorway that lead to the deck outside when he himself took a seat on the edge of his futon. His action was regarded with just as much coldness, he hadn’t expected Byakuya to take his example or even offer him a seat in the first place.

He stretched out his legs for good measure while leaning with one elbow on the soft material behind him. He was making himself entirely comfortable in comparison to the uptight Kuchiki. “Judging by your posture, your birthday gift can’t come any sooner...”

“My birthday was two weeks ago.” came the almost monotonous drone.

“I was busy.” he offered as a poor excuse with a big smile. He might have forgotten on the day itself, might have even been drunk, or maybe even both...

But luckily his Nanao-chan had reminded him of that yesterday...

“Busy?” Byakuya’s arms crossed over each other which inadvertently also influenced his tone that became just as strict. “I find that hard to believe...”

“Aren’t you curious though what I got you?” He tried to urge some curiosity, but to no avail. Byakuya remained his charming self. And even promptly started closing the shutters, as if Byakuya was casually preparing for bed so he could find an excuse to kick him out. “Do tell.”

Which sounded just as exciting as the rest of his displeased demeanour.

“A trip to Inuzuri.”

Bingo, Byakuya realised what that code word meant, since he instantly turned around to face him.

“Have you no shame?” it might have sounded like an accusation, but he knew Byakuya all too well in regards to courtesans. Every noble man, he could attest to that, had at least been a frequent visitor, for paid services, at one point in their life. Arranged marriages were convenient, but they lacked real passion...

“It will relieve the tension that’s been bottling up since you had to give away your lieutenant-” at the almost death stare, he chuckled a corrective, “-sister. Plus there are plenty of subservient whores eager to kneel at your feet. Plenty of stray bitches.” A word play on the district itself and Byakuya’s well known nickname of Renji. While knowing Byakuya’s urges, the Kuchiki was actually quite the dog... Looks could be deceiving. At least if you took the pristine and seemingly fragile appearance into account. It hid the sadist behind the mask perfectly...

“And you’re coming along to...” Byakuya stopped talking as soon as the maid returned with his drink. It would be such a shame to the Kuchiki name if those secrets were out in the open. Only when the attendant had left and had closed the door, did Byakuya pick up the conversation again. “...share my birthday gift?” 

He tasted the burn of Cognac, imported from the human world on Byakuya’s latest trip no doubt. Maybe even a gift from his precious sister... “Well...”

“You mean I’m accompanying **you** on a stroll to go brothel hopping?”

It was that easy to figure out wasn’t it? “I can get carried away...” Especially with the absence of Jushiro... 

The look he was given probably invoked the wrong impression. “With the drinking, I mean.” he added therefore quickly. “I need someone by my side who can actually see the bottom of my glass,” Byakuya unceremoniously took away his drink, which Shunsui pried back to gulp it down in one go, before he handed the empty glass back over. “So I don’t end up lying in a ditch somewhere and robbed of my values.” While drunk it became a little bit harder to focus on defending himself. No that he needed to be guarded, but it was an old habit while Jushiro had been around...

And old habits die hard...

When all he received was a reluctant sigh, he stood up called over one of the maids, “Grab his coat, we’re going out.” Byakuya simply had no time to refuse.

-0-

They were waiting at the counter of one of Shunsui’s favourite pleasure houses when a book with pictures of the available men and women was then presented in front of them. Shunsui waved away the portfolio in a dismissive manner, it wouldn’t do to choose solely based on appearance when, “It’s for my friend actually and he’s got special...requests.” he motioned at Byakuya whom stood next to him and who was already criticising the accommodation with searching eyes around them. 

He could have suggested one of the courtesans himself, since he did like to think that he knew every single one in this house. He had tried all of them...or at least, he had talked to all of them. Since sometimes he had been too drunk to preform and other times he was just looking for someone that listened...

So maybe it was best to keep Byakuya’s birthday gift a true surprise. 

They were probably already recognised by the emblem of their noble houses, and the money that he threw on the counter... Yet at the same time, that money was one way to keep their visits a secret. Double or triple the amount of what was standard price (which wasn’t already cheap) and the anonymity was a free extra. 

“Someone preferably sturdy, so they can take the slash of a whip, but somehow still subservient enough so all pride is lost.”

“Certainly.” the brothel owner murmured, the money already counted and put away. He then motioned to somewhere off to the side, invisible to them, since a curtain shielded the view. “The room will be prepared.”

While waiting, they were simultaneously also offered a drink, which Byakuya refused and he requested two cups of their finest sake instead. 

“You’re not going to choose your own?”

“If you don’t mind,” which he knew, Byakuya didn’t. “I like to just watch.” voyeuristic tendencies aside, he wasn’t here for his own pleasures solely. More so for the company of another being than anything else.

Oh and he was here for the drinks, of course. The chance to drink in another setting instead of his favourite bar. It was becoming shameful that the bartender at that place knew more about him than his own niece... He took both drinks as soon as they arrived while Byakuya spend his time people watching, especially the newest customers that walked in beside them.

“Mmhmm.” Byakuya agreed in a slight drone.

Just like his own maybe slight voyeuristic streak, Byakuya had a slight exhibitionistic streak. Must be because they were both pressured to keep affairs secret, given their title and name...

His companion seemed to be too preoccupied with waiting on his own prize. The sigh that got accompanied by a glance at the clock on the wall was loud and clear.

Which the staff quickly caught up on as well and they were lead to their room.

The male whore wasn’t exactly spectacular. Attractive for sure, even with those rather bland looks; dark hair that matched just as dark eyes. But he could hopefully withstand Byakuya’s domineering personality.

At the knowledge though that it was Shunsui’s companion that was going to play the Dom, their courtesan had chuckled at the thought of the pretty noble taking control. 

Shunsui chuckled himself at the shock that would soon go through the poor unsuspecting soul. “Looks can be deceiving, pal.” he added as a quick reminder, before Byakuya ordered naturally, without even asking their whore’s name, “Undress.” 

He licked his lips after taking a sip of his sake and watched as the still amused courtesan undressed seductively in front of them. It was actually a private show for him alone when Byakuya was busy rearranging some attributes that hung on the wall.

The extravagant, yet still somehow cheap looking yukata was lowered from the courtesan’s tanned shoulders and dropped almost gracefully on the wooden floor. It would be quite the delicious contrast, Byakuya’s pale skin mixed with the courtesan’s sun kissed tan. The same for their differences in physique; almost fragile porcelain doll features in comparison to the young male’s clearly trained body. Yeah, he couldn’t blame the courtesan’s obvious disbelief in Byakuya being a natural Dom. That had also always intrigued Jushiro. While his late...partner had never exactly been a fan of visiting pleasure houses, on special occasions Jushiro had accompanied him and Byakuya.

At his deep gaze that went all over that tanned complexion, the courtesan probably thought he had captured his attention, since that nice body sauntered his way. Yet when the whore had placed his hands on Shunsui’s knees, the sound and the impact of a whip right next to the young male’s feet had him straightened up again in an instant.

And while Shunsui should have expected it, out of experience, the small jump that went through him had him grasping his cold glass of liquor in a firmer grip, lest he’d spill some of it... 

Byakuya had the whip positioned to strike again and with a dismissive gesture at a particular point on the floor, he warned, “Know your place, whore.”

He didn’t know if the courtesan was frozen in place because of Byakuya’s action or because he had been truly startled by the dangerously careless whipping. Although in his line of work, their paid entertainer should have known that his customers could get pretty creative... He patted one of those tanned thighs and murmured a soothing, “Better do as he says, sweetheart.”

Maybe the courtesan had even thought poorly of Byakuya’s aim. How wrong he would be though... 

The whip had become Byakuya’s favourite attribute to use since Abarai Renji had become his lieutenant. Renji had inspired Byakuya in more ways than one, yet probably not for the reasons Renji had hoped... The fact that Byakuya normally preferred redheaded courtesans should have been enough of a hint though... Yet with Byakuya so bold in every other situation, he never had approached his lieutenant in that sense. 

The young male walked to his designated spot and as soon as the light practically engulfed him, Shunsui realised that Byakuya had chosen that place specifically to get the best angles possible.

“On your knees, hands behind your back.”

And from his place in the corner of the room, he could get a fairly good glimpse of Byakuya’s near grinning gleefulness. Especially when he caressed the end of the whip somewhere along the Sub’s calves, ready to no doubt strike at an unsuspecting point.

He didn’t know whatever made Byakuya so keen to the sadistic pleasures, Shunsui himself enjoyed some of the basic kinks as well, but exacting pain on his partners had never been his forte. Besides, Jushiro’s health hadn’t allowed for their sex life to become too risqué...

There he went again...He just couldn’t stop his thoughts from passing into that territory... 

He could enjoy the show, but...he had actually felt more inclined to just have some company around. The thought had him suddenly practically wallowing in despair and this wasn’t exactly the place to face and talk about his sorrows. Besides, before his mood turned contagious, although he doubted it since the pair would be quite busy with each other, he decided to go for a smoke outside of the brothel. 

The second he was bombarded by the night air, the rush overwhelmed him in an instant, it was like an invisible punch that slapped away the only jubilance left caused by the liquor.

After lighting up his pipe, he looked around and found a place to sit down beside the entrance of the brothel. He sat himself down in the middle of the street on the steps. This street and the neighbouring ones were made up of the pleasure district, yet the cheap housing market flourished here as well, sometimes even in the same building as one of the brothels... 

The cold of the concrete floor underneath him seemingly seeped through his hakama and that further doused any lingering arousal. Such a pity that it had to ruin his evening...

He felt the whispering calming touch of a palm on his shoulder. Katen’s invisible presence felt like a soothing blanket at that point. Katen and Kyokotsu formed a bond of solace that he could always count on. Even despite his zanpakuto’s general ornery and fondness for mischief in battle, his ladies were aware through their bond of the emptiness that Jushiro had left behind. 

At times it was hard to believe that the one that had stood by his side for so long had truly disappeared. And while he knew that Jushiro’s sacrifice to the Soul King made it impossible for his spirit to be reborn as a Soul, he still caught himself wandering the Rukongai on a fruitless search of the partner he had lost. 

He flicked the ashes away and looked off into the distance, allowing himself some peace from the constant thunderstorm in his mind.

“The streets aren’t exactly clean, but your littering won’t speed up the progress of fixing the Rukongai.”

He glanced back at the rather familiar deep tone only to turn completely so he was faced with someone that had to normally be locked in Hell. He quickly tried to remember any memo he had forgotten to read at the sight of Aizen Sousuke. 

Sousuke was slowly descending the stairs, one step at the time, looking for all the world not exactly as if he had just escaped the underworld. In fact the plain dark brown kimono resembled almost the standard attire of the Rukon residents...

At least the missing Kyouka Suigetsu guaranteed the dangerous zanpakuto still a place inthe tightly secured confiscated weaponry.

“What are you doing here?” he questioned.

Being condemned to Hell didn’t warrant someone a leisure stroll through Soul Society, not even in the Rukongai.

Sousuke stopped one step above his own, searching eyes seemingly scanned the environment around them and stopped pointedly at the door he was seated next to. “I could ask you the same, Kyouraku-san. This is not exactly becoming of a Captain Commander...”

As if Sousuke had been such an angel during his servicing period in the Gotei... Soldiers were the number one customer after all. Come to think of it, Sousuke had appeared from deep within the pleasure district. 

No energy, nor reiatsu could be felt radiating off of Sousuke, strange. Was Sousuke on parole? No, impossible, such terms were only available for humans. 

“I didn’t know that Hell permitted conjugal visits...here in Inuzuri.” 

He watched as Sousuke grinned at his remark, before he casually sat down next to him.

“Believe me, that is not the place to get it on.” 

The kind manner in which Sousuke smiled at him made him raise an eyebrow.

Sousuke had always been a complex individual, difficult to decipher and somehow the almost familiarity that Sousuke used to start up a conversation could make anyone mistake them for friends. Yet he knew that underneath that layer of false friendliness, Sousuke’s true colours were hidden.

The key to keep Sousuke’s pressure locked had not been a success, it had long since been removed as well as the connection to himself, so why was Sousuke actively engaging him? Unless the former lord wanted to test him, Sousuke better be careful.

“Shouldn’t you be at least six feet under?” he questioned. He could bind Sousuke and place him temporarily in Muken to get his answers regarding the convict’s freedom...

Sousuke turned to him, put both of his wrists together and innocently offered them up to be bound. “If you’re so certain, by all means lock me down with a kidou and present me as a present to Central.” 

The fact that Sousuke was clearly mocking him about holding him in custody probably had Shunsui obviously missing crucial details. And the last thing he needed was to be reprimanded by Central on his inadequacy as Captain Commander. Hell was a priority of the second division, so he would do good on getting his answers there first, before reporting to higher authority.

Besides, tracking down Sousuke shouldn’t be a problem, even if Sousuke’s reiatsu didn’t betray his hiding place, it was easy to find someone in the Rukongai regardless. Bribery was an excellent means to find your way.

When he made no move to tie Sousuke’s hands, he lowered his wrists. “Well...” and then stood up, practically towering over Shunsui. “I should be going now.” 

If that was an attempt to make him suspicious it didn’t directly evoke the right response inside of him. The cold air or his sorrows had numbed him somewhat.

Besides, if Sousuke was truly on the run, he would catch up either way.


	2. Familiar tunes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I just couldn’t wait to update another chapter, but I promise that in the next few weeks these fics receive an update as well: Claimed II, Samsāra and The Legacy in exactly that order.

**Chapter two: **Familiar tunes****

The first thing Shunsui did as soon as Sunday morning rolled around, was sending a Hellbutterfly to Soi Fon with the question if she knew anything about Sousuke’s current predicament. When he received his answer on how she was certain that Sousuke should still be locked in Hell, he was about ready to send out arrest orders while in the past he would have asked Jushiro for advice.

Yet he did good on listening to his Nanao-chan when she told him to visit Central anyways, in the small chance that Sousuke had told him the truth. Turned out, he needed Nanao as his voice of reason, beside her vice-captain duties, because Sousuke had for once in his life been completely honest.

Who would have thought...

“Parole...” he parroted the single term that had formed Sousuke’s way to limited freedom. “Who would have thought that the King of Hell would grant anyone a ticket out of Hell, simply because of good behaviour?”

Nanao stood next to his desk and barely glanced up from the documents she was browsing through.

While he made it the perfect excuse to start his slacking habits off on. Mondays were such a drag... He had wasted his Sunday on finding information about Sousuke, so he was allowed to take a breather or two.

“Good behaviour, mhh?” he scratched his beard in thought while he tried desperately to come up with what could have possibly been classified as good behaviour in Hell? 

“Leave that up to the Second devision, you have other priorities that need your immediate attention.” Nanao scolded, sounding not that far off from a drill instructor, without the shouting though, since she was much too softhearted for that. She only became angry whenever he had missed a deadline. Which was ever so often...

He sighed at the stack of documents she put in front of his nose, which he placed his elbow on as support instead.

Not that he thought Soi Fon as incapable, but she didn’t know how to handle someone like Sousuke. She was trained enough in regards to approaching criminals, but Sousuke was a... special case. He would only manage to anger her, which would probably result in her detainment or something predictable of a scheme like that. Sousuke was no longer a Gotei member, but he remained property of the King of Hell, meaning Sousuke was in a manner protected from harm. 

Soi Fon didn’t have the patience to deal with Sousuke. But, he did. Anything really to get his mind off of Monday’s fresh workload. 

\----

So he began his search throughout Inuzuri with the help of a picture he showed to random passersby. The first few times, he received either a shrug or a straight out, “Don’t know him.” yet when he took out his money pouch, he suddenly had direct instructions leading him to a worn-down building.

Not only in Inuzuri though, the inhabitants throughout all of the Rukongai were happy to sell someone’s Soul for a little bit of money.

The building was terraced on both sides, the cracks that had appeared overtime, simply continued unto the next building. The shutters had clearly been broken into on multiple times and more than one window, judging by the different materials that replaced the original ones...

Inside, he found more than cheap apartments, from what appeared to be a store selling illegal drugs, to a makeshift brothel. The kind that Shunsui wouldn’t visit, because they were owned by pimps who stuck their workers in great debts and kept the courtesans doused and dumbed down with opiates. Not exactly the epitome of pleasure.

And while he still didn’t know about Sousuke’s current attributions to the work field, he doubted it was in the entertainment industry. And if so, Sousuke would probably be working the streets, and not owned by a pimp.

He continued his pursuit with the help of the picture, but the residents in the building weren’t so inclined to help him, even with the help of his money. It could be that they were desperately trying to make him either enter the brothel, since the men that stood by the archway that was covered by curtains, were calling him over with phrases such as, “We have someone that might come close... You won’t regret it.” and some random kid that was trying to shove some grounded up pills in his palm, along with an eager, “Just 200 for you.”

Maybe he should send someone of the 12th here for inspection... 

It was only perchance that he met the landlord, deeper into the building, who came collecting his rent at one of the doors. He was all too easily guided to the right door, at least there was someone who recognised his authority. 

Though Sousuke either wasn’t home or he wasn’t opening up on purpose, because he had been standing there for the past six minutes, knocking. He had tried the door briefly and while he didn’t have his master key at hand to break in anyways, the hinges would probably give with a little force...

He waited until the landlord was well and out of the building before he pushed up against the door and unhinged the ramshackle old piece of wood. 

This was his time to sneak into the room and search Sousuke’s belongings for anything that might be suspicious. Yet besides the furniture, that was probably already property of the landlord, there wasn’t anything that hinted at Sousuke’s next plan of action. The couple of belongings that Sousuke had lying around, was clothes or food.

Not even a weapon for self defence in such a neighbourhood?

That was oddly suspicious in its own...

“Do you have a search warrant, Kyouraku-san?” 

He ceased his search through the drawers and immediately turned around at Sousuke’s voice, who gave the door an inconspicuous glance.

“Unfortunately for you, the Gotei has the right to search a house.”

Sousuke walked over to him, reopened the drawer he had just been going through to organise his clothes again. “The Gotei also has the right to slaughter residents of the Rukongai, only on orders though. I learned that the hard way when my contributions to the couple of Souls I lend for the Hogyoku was seen as opposition to our own laws.”

“I’m the Commander of the Gotei, naturally I’m allowed to break a few more rules than those under me.”

“Oh, of course,” Sousuke closed the drawer again and looked him over. “hierarchy... I was never that good at following orders.” Before Sousuke came close to reach over him in order to adjust the lapels of the ever present pink kimono that was slung over his shoulders.

Shunsui turned his head at that casual and fluent familiarity when it was done practically out of sight for him due to Sousuke choosing his right side, where his sight was completely destroyed. And while he didn't want to give Sousuke the feeling that he had the ‘upper hand’ by obviously being extremely on guard, he rather still saw what Sousuke was doing.

Sousuke’s lips quirked up as soon as their gaze connected, before he turned around on the way to the small kitchenette at the end of the studio. “Do you want something to drink, Kyouraku-san?”

“I’m not here to exchange simple pleasantries.”

The glance that Sousuke sent over his shoulder revealed a sinister smirk at his remark. And a bit later Sousuke returned with two drinks in hand, both alcohol and one of them was handed over to him, even though he had declined the offer clearly...

“Then pray tell why you are here?” the motion that accompanied Sousuke’s question told him to take a seat, but he rather remained standing, he preferred the height difference over Sousuke.

“Just making sure that you’re staying out of trouble, for one I don’t know how you paid for this...” he actually meant the expensive brandy, not the studio flat, the strong almost rich wooden fragrance was an all too familiar one to his nose, and though he was tempted to take a sip, he did good on keeping himself in check. 

Poison wasn’t Sousuke’s choice of weapon for sure, but...

Sousuke did take a sip, making it particularly obvious how foolish his thoughts were. He then came to stand right next to him, practically sitting on the edge of the table, that creaked against the weight. “I see, you think I broke into this flat myself? Or do you think I stole the money I used for rent?”

He shrugged, still awkwardly standing with the brandy in one hand. “You dislike hierarchy, are there any legal branches left then for you as far as the work field goes?” And to own a business, Sousuke needed money, lots of it, so that was out of the question as well, because the only ones that were eligible for a loan from Central Bank, were Gotei soldiers. Rukon residents could only turn to loan sharks, whom were all in good cahoots with the local gangs... 

Sousuke set his drink aside on the table after taking another sip. And then began to slowly pick apart both sides of his kimono, the lapels were pushed to each respective side, revealing long legs. “Seems like you haven’t really wandered that far into Inuzuri if that is the only thing you can come up with.” 

The smooth skin that was teased bit by bit, ended at Sousuke’s thighs. And yeah he was a simple man in such cases, of course his gaze was practically drawn to the bared flesh. The band around one of Sousuke’s thighs registered briefly, but the black leather like strap was enticing in more ways than one, until Sousuke’s hand disappeared underneath the part of the kimono that still covered the dip between those legs and those upper thighs.

His senses only shot back to him when he saw Sousuke’s hand reappearing, the metal that glinted briefly had him grabbing Sousuke’s wrist instantly in a vice like grip. The cup of liquor had fallen down, spilling on the already stained tatami. 

“Why so apprehensive?” Sousuke rattled the coins in the leathery pouch that had a metallic sheen to it.

The black leather strap around a thigh was often used to hide weapons with, so of course his mind had jumped to that part automatically at the slightest hint of metal.

“I know what that band mostly signifies.” he murmured, no need to be cautionary, it was fairly obvious.

Sousuke hiked up the left side of the kimono to reveal a dagger neatly tugged inside of the strap anyways.

As he had thought...

He let go off Sousuke’s wrist, to which Sousuke then emptied the pouch and the coins clattered unto the table. If that was the amount that Sousuke made per day, he was definitely involved into some illegal business.

When he told Sousuke, the younger man gave a curt mocking laugh. “That is what I get to survive for a month, my employer was prepared to pay in advance so I could pay the rental guarantee.”

It was only the tenth day this month...there was no way that Sousuke could survive on that little amount, without doing any extracurricular activities.

“And what exactly is your occupation now?” 

“You can’t think of anything?” The way Sousuke’s eyes casted downwards over his own naked thighs and back to meet with his left eye fed him undeniably the wrong impression.

“I don’t see you as a prostitute.”

Sousuke slipped off of the edge of the table, making the lapels cover up everything again, before he bend down to pick up the broken pieces of the cup that had fallen down in his haste to grab Sousuke’s wrist.

“No?” Sousuke looked up at him and Shunsui unconsciously stepped back when Sousuke’s head was directly at crotch level. “Aren’t deceit and acting great qualifications for the entertainment industry?” 

Sure if he made it sound like that...

Sousuke then stood up, broken pieces in his hand to walk back to the kitchenette, only to return with a rag to fruitlessly scrub at the brandy that had long since seeped into the tatami. “Unfortunately, it is nothing spectacular and very legal, Kyouraku-san. I’m just selling some vegetables for a local merchant.”

He didn’t know why that somehow felt like a disappointment. It was not like he had hoped that Sousuke would sell himself... He looked down at the one who was still kneeling in front of him. With his thoughts heading in that territory, that was definitely his cue to head back. 

-0- 

Kisuke had been anticipating a visit from Shunsui since Monday, when word got around about Aizen supposedly having escaped Hell. It was only by Thursday that Shunsui actually showed up.

He met the Captain Commander outside of the lab that Mayuri bestowed him upon his return to Soul Society. As official assistant of the captain of the 12th, he could be of use directly in the Seireitei again. Which he had been looking forward to, especially when Aizen was locked behind Hell’s gates.

But now...

Five years ago, at the end of Bach’s war, he had removed the Hogyoku. He had visited Aizen after the operation, when the anaesthetic should have long since ceased its effectiveness. Yet Aizen had still been asleep, and as soon as he had checked over Aizen, the deceitful brunet had grabbed unto him, along with a spiteful warning of, “You’d best believe I’m coming for you the next time.” Kisuke had expected a threat, Aizen struck out like a cobra when his back met the wall.

And while he didn’t necessarily fear Aizen, it was Aizen’s questionable methods that did incite some queasiness inside of him the past couple of days. Aizen was prepared to go all the way to reach a goal after all...

“You want me to check if Aizen’s powers are still tightly locked?” he questioned Kyouraku as he lead them to a different hallway, where he occupied one of the empty offices with the Captain Commander.

“A systematic checkup actually. I’ll be keeping a close eye on him as well. I don’t fully trust the King of Hell’s decisions in Sousuke’s parole...”

And that when they already had to keep an eye on a particular troublemaker that had strayed as well. While he thought structure would keep Grimmjow in tow, Central’s refusal to allow Grimmjow entry into the academy or the Gotei had the former Espada looking for residence in the Rukongai. Ichigo’s acceptance as vice-captain of the 13th division, without attending the academy nonetheless was too much for Grimmjow to bear and he turned against his helping hand... The Seireitei’s rules certainly weren’t fair, something Grimmjow refused to bow down to, probably a leftover of Aizen’s influence.

He wasn’t afraid that Grimmjow would seek out his former ruler again, the distaste for Aizen’s rule had been thankfully more than apparent. 

“It’s the least I can do.” And with as much reporting to Kyouraku and Central as he could, because if Aizen’s previous deceit had taught him one thing, it was crucial to keep being open about everything he did, lest he be framed for something or another again. 

-0-

The dim lighting in the Blue Inn, resident Jazz bar in district 77, had Shinji hardly making out the beginning and end of his piano keys. Not that he needed any sight, his eyes were closed anyways and his head was bobbing along to his tunes.

That was the thing with Jazz music, it was all about feeling.

He had picked up the love for the harmonic rhythms in the Human World and once he acquired back his position as head of the fifth division, he decided to finally act up on his passion. He had his life back on the rails after the fiasco with Aizen, so now it got time that he spent all of his lost years on himself.

And playing piano made him feel in tune with himself again, the composition one with his Soul. Every Friday night he would come to the Blue Inn, where he was allowed to play his own improvisations after the main act. He had been a regular patron for years after all.

“Time to wrap it up, Shinji! I’m about ta lock up.” the owner of the bar, Kiko, broke him out of his muse.

And when he reopened his eyes, he saw her putting a glass of cognac ready on the dark wooden top board. He nodded in her direction, before quickly glancing behind him to see if he still had an audience while his fingers still glided smoothly along the keys. The bar wasn’t exactly packed anymore, from what he could see, but the ones that were still seated were still enjoying his cosy beats.

He finished the last of his improvised composition before he heard someone clapping in the background, which inspired others to join in on the applause. He grinned wildly at that enthusiasm while the owner raised up her glass from behind the bar in a way to cheer him on as well, which he answered with a swig of his own liquor.

Standing up, he stretched and cracked his neck muscles that protested severely to his ever haunched over posture in his office as well as on his favourite instrument. And when he made his way to the bar, Kiko praised, “You’ll become a legend soon.”

“I can’t blame them.” he boasted freely. “Ye have it or ya don’t...”

The palms that brushed or patted his shoulder from the customers that were leaving while giving him their appreciation wasn’t exactly foreign and neither was the big fat tip that he received from some of his regulars listeners. So late at night, they were either drunk off of his music or high, so that upped the probability of those generous donations. It was a nice extra, but not the drive that fuelled his passion. He didn’t need to earn a living off of his hobby.

When he received another drink from Kiko, he was about to use one of the tips to pay for it. He had free rein to that magnificent instrument already and free drinks during his performance, he didn’t need that endless supply after he was done.

Yet, she pointed somewhere in the back. “Ya got another admirer.”

He glanced back, but the customer sat hidden in the dim light and that made it hard to make out his features except that it was a male. He grabbed the glass and sauntered over, he couldn’t possibly offer up the chance for some nice rhythms underneath the sheets; another benefit to his extracurricular activities. 

The comfortable hazy fog died immediately however when he neared and saw that it was his former vice-captain and maker of his Hollow.

“You...”

Aizen smiled. “Those were some lovely tunes.”

Just hearing that voice alone had his Hollow’s rage flaring up inside of him.

He returned his own appreciation by spitting in the drink that Aizen had offered him, before he placed it next to Aizen’s own empty glass.

Aizen kept regarding him with a sudden twinkle in his eyes while telling him in an unbelievable chastising tone, “Is that really needed? Such disrespect...and I don’t mean in regards to me, but...”

He looked at where Aizen’s gaze had landed on and saw Kiko clearing the tables. “She knows me. I don’t need yer gratitude whatsoever, so you can shove your paid consumption-”

Aizen interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. “You don’t seem surprised by my presence, in the Rukongai that is.” 

He stuck his hands in his slacks, contemplating whether he should just turn around and inform Kiko that she should keep that customer out from now on. Yet, did he want to give Aizen the satisfaction of getting under his skin?

“Word goes around about ya, I think everyone knows about yer release from out of Hell by now.”

Aizen came a long way if the King of Hell didn’t even want him near.

The glass he had spat into was stacked neatly in Aizen’s empty one before they were shoved to the edge of the table. “Communication is top priority in the Gotei, something I hope you’ve improved on since becoming captain again, Hirako-taicho.”

He practically ground his teeth in annoyance at his title, coming out of that mouth, together with the subtle stab at his captain duties. Aizen had been a terrible vice-captain; ornery, a fucking know it all, fake personality and then he hadn’t mentioned his crimes yet...

Better to ignore that. Aizen wanted a reaction from him, so he instead helped Kiko clean up by grabbing the stacked glasses and muttering an offhanded, “We’re locking up, get yer ass out.”

He turned around to the kitchen, bent on not granting Aizen a single glance back. Hopefully he got the message.


	3. Frustration and liquor

**Chapter three: Frustration and liquor**

Kisuke had anticipated having to see Aizen again, no, that was worded incorrectly, it was more of a trepidation. Their last confrontation right after he had removed the Hogyoku hadn’t spelled out a happy reunion. He had to admit that he was nervous, which was a grounded feeling regarding Aizen.

Whatever he did to lock Aizen up backfired on him one way or another, as soon as Aizen showed himself, it meant trouble for Kisuke. Naturally he would like nothing more than to remove himself from Aizen’s radar entirely, but at the same time, it would be better to monitor every bit of Aizen’s next actions, so he would be prepared for that next move.

Because Aizen’s so called properly orchestrated plans were concocted well beforehand. Finding out about Aizen’s next intention was crucial for not only his own safety, but that of Soul Society as well.

But definitely his own, Aizen’s seals that had lead to his incarceration, the Hogyoku that he had removed, were not exactly deeds that Aizen would leave unpunished. Aizen’s promise of coming after him was a definite.

Trying to make himself invisible would only encourage Aizen to catch him unguarded.

“Here it is.”

Kisuke glanced at the building Kyouraku had lead him to.

In the midst of hookers, pimps and dealers? It wasn’t exactly a place that he could foresee Aizen situating himself in. The first few districts of the Rukongai would have been a little too expensive no doubt for someone that had no savings.

And selling goods for a local merchant wouldn’t allow someone to afford any housing possibilities in those areas regardless, but...Inuzuri? Even the lower districts would have made more sense for Aizen.

Aizen’s morality was up to par with the pleasure district, that wasn’t what necessarily surprised Kisuke. But knowing Aizen, he would place himself above such simple pleasures. And then to house himself directly into a state of fornication? That seemed suspicious in its own.

Not to Kyouraku though, the Captain Commander was already letting himself be chatted up by the brothel keeper who was trying to sell his oh so impressive merchandise. The portfolio of the available men and women was eagerly being browsed through by Kyouraku already.

Kisuke would be lying if he said he had never visited the Inuzuri of his own accord before, but right now, they were on duty. Dressed in their uniforms, yet that didn’t stop the people from in the building to approach them with unsavoury offers that could possibly earn the sellers a one way ticket to the Maggots Nest. 

Except for prostitution, that was big business after all. The Gotei members had to have some privilege for maintaining the balance.

Yet the guy that suddenly approached Kisuke with a handful of white and colourful pills, didn’t seem to have gotten the memo over opiates. He didn’t need to be surprised though, drug raids weren’t as common.

Most Gotei members, especially as result of the Quincy war, sought a self sufficient method to get rid of their Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. A condition that every soldier had suffered from at one point in their life...or continued to suffer from.

And with no attention spared on mental help, those wonder pills weren’t only sold in the Black Market alone. 

Tough luck for the poor schmuck, but Kisuke had been informed by Kyouraku on this guy.

His order of 1/3 of a gram of each had the guy’s suspiciously red looking eyes suddenly widen in great triumph. It was free of charge for him anyways, all on the cost of the 12th division.

Stuff pocketed up, ready to be researched in his lab, Kyouraku lead him further into the building.

“He had promised me a certain individual for sale, I just wanted to make sure.”

He barely glanced at Kyouraku’s excuse for looking through that portfolio. Who could have supposedly caught the Captain Commander’s specific interest? Kyouraku was liable for anything that spread their legs. 

“And?”

“The supposed uncanny similarities were not even close.” 

Good excuse, but at the same time, Kyouraku had spent an awful long time searching for that individual’s photo...

“This is his studio flat.”

When they stopped in front of Aizen’s door his heart was suddenly beating wildly, his reiatsu was rushing through him in such a pace it made him nearly dizzy.

Kisuke wasn’t afraid, not really. Aizen just naturally instilled precaution inside of him.

Though when no one opened the door after a minute, a small reassurance built up inside of his stomach. Maybe it was even closeted disappointment, because if he didn’t meet up with Aizen now, their inevitable reunion had to wait. While in actuality, he just wanted it to be over and done with.

Kyouraku couldn’t seem to handle the suspense either, since his ear was flat against the door as if he was trying to listen in on any sound that signified Aizen was home. Or no, it was his shoulder that was trying to...

Was Kyouraku trying to break in?

Certainly legal on their part, but was that really necessary? Aizen couldn’t exactly run...

He raised an eyebrow when Kyouraku chuckled at his inability to force the door open.

“He’s good.” Kyouraku mumbled clearly in some sort of inside joke that Kisuke didn’t exactly catch the meaning of.

“It would have maybe been better if we surprised him in the morning.” he attested to the Captain Commander. It was well past three in the afternoon, if Aizen was indeed holding up the curtain of a model citizen, then he should be working his shift at the local market.

“In the morning?” Kyouraku parroted, clearly entertained. “I’m still sobering up first thing in the morning, not exactly the right time to deal with that.” he then motioned with a thumb at the door behind him.

Yeah...

Or Kyouraku was likely still sleeping then. 

Might have also not been the right timing for Kisuke either, he himself had spent most of last night on some new findings. He had even fallen asleep at his desk, cheek plastered to his papers and drool covering his new founded discoveries.

He really ought to stop falling back in the habit of locking himself up in his lab. It wouldn’t protect him from Aizen’s schemes.

“Wel, wel, wel, what have we here...”

That voice alone stopped everything for Kisuke all at once. He even practically had to force himself to turn towards the end of the hallway, where Aizen’s voice came from. Their eyes connected for just a blink of an eye and while Kisuke forgot to breathe at that moment, Aizen’s gaze didn’t even linger on him for more than that second. But if felt like an eternity all the same...

The one that had torn everything from him with the help of one single accusation. All that leftover was a deep grounded hate that consumed him completely in Aizen’s presence. Making him barely able to function at all.

Kisuke basically even felt like he was part of the backdrop as he saw Aizen sidling up next to Kyouraku, who was still leaning with a shoulder against the door. Aizen then fiddled with something in his pocket before dangling a key right before Kyouraku’s face.

“Is this what you were looking for?”

“Clever!” Kyouraku praised joyously and Aizen allowed the handover of the silver trinket, to which Kyouraku inspected it up close, as if he was imprinting the design with his fingers. He then took the liberty of opening the door and urging Aizen entry with a casual hand at his back. “You fixed the hinges.” but didn’t give the same treatment to Kisuke, since he followed Aizen closely to give the hinges the same sort of inspection. 

Okay. It was clear, he was missing something here. 

“I can’t allow you free entry every time, Kyouraku-san.” 

“Touché”

Aizen motioned for them to take a seat, “Do you want anything to drink, Kyouraku-san?” which didn’t really urge Kyouraku and him to take that incentive.

They just stood there awkwardly. 

Kyouraku then seemingly remembered his presence, because Kisuke was faced with an anticipatory nod as if the Captain Commander was looking for permission from him.

“I don’t need anything.” he answered his companion’s expectant gesture, though it was Aizen that answered with a, 

“That is why I offered, Kyouraku-san, I believe.”

That felt nothing short of a rejection for some reason. He wasn’t even spared a second glance by Aizen, who smiled a little too friendly in Kyouraku’s direction.

“No, no. I’ve had enough to drink yesterday. Nanao-chan has scolded me enough today as it is, I still feel that slight headache pounding beneath my temples.”

Aizen likely hadn’t listened at all, because a minute later he came bearing two cups of liquor. One for Kyouraku and the other one for himself, apparently. Because Kisuke wasn’t offered any at all.

A childish attempt at making him feel left out perhaps?

Aizen persisted on the handover of Kyouraku’s drink, even though it seemed, from Kisuke’s point of view, that Kyouraku tried his best not to take that offer. Even if that perseverance failed blatantly...

“Are you afraid that I’m going to poison you? Would I really do that with a witness present?” Aizen questioned in a fake doubtful voice. 

It wasn’t necessarily about the possibility of being poisoned, but loosing one’s inhibitions in the presence of Aizen was dangerous, something Kyouraku likely understood.

“I can’t possibly blame Urahara-san a second time,” the nudge in his direction momentarily shocked Kisuke. “it won’t come over as believable, would it?” 

Kisuke couldn’t even believe that Aizen would make such a careless insinuation. It made his heart pound severely, because why would Aizen ever joke about something like that? 

“Not really.” Kyouraku laughed freely at his expense which kind of cemented Aizen’s verbal stab at him.

Kyouraku remained his carefree self, Kisuke hadn’t expected for the Captain Commander to instantly cuff Aizen and reprimand him even. That was not how Kyouraku operated...

But it couldn’t hurt to remind Kyouraku exactly what Aizen was maybe after.

“Kyouraku’s connection to your seals has been broken.” Kisuke didn’t know why he felt like informing Aizen specifically on a matter that the brunet ought to know already, but he just didn’t like the way Aizen was almost ignoring him and insulting him on purpose.

He also hadn’t expected Aizen to welcome him with the same sort of familiarity that Kyouraku was bombarded with, but...being shoved so blatantly aside...was unnerving. 

Was Aizen trying to give him a false sense of security? That wouldn’t lessen Kisuke’s suspiciousness regarding his intentions whatsoever. Aizen was undeniably planning something, being expelled out of Hell was an opportunity that Aizen wouldn’t let pass without finding a way to spell doom upon them again. Or at the very least, upon Kisuke as a last act of revenge.

Aizen’s eyes then connected for the second time with him. The tiny smirk on the corners of that mouth was mocking him. “I know that, Urahara-san. May I at least welcome the Commander of our army by being hospitable, without some prejudice regarding my person?” 

That fake sentimentality wasn’t fooling him. And definitely shouldn't move Kyouraku either, who gave a careless shrug behind Aizen’s back to Kisuke, as if Kisuke should have let that simply all slide past. 

Easy for Kyouraku, but not for Kisuke. He couldn’t help it. The confrontation with Aizen, while making him apprehensive to the point that he was sweating lightly, was unconsciously something he required. He craved the feeling of giving Aizen the perception that he was on to something.

It was crucial!

“You’re trying to score some points with me.” Kyouraku commented jovially, capturing Aizen’s attention again.

“Of course.” Aizen answered Kyouraku’s sarcasm with an overly friendly tone. “Is it working though?”

Kyouraku seated himself on one of the chairs and twirled the contents in his cup in order to seemingly inhale the scent of the liquor instead of giving Aizen the satisfaction of drinking it. “That is the question!”

Deciding to break Aizen’s desperate attempts to procrastinate, Kisuke pulled the reiatsu reader out of his bag, before putting it with a dull thud on the surface of the table so Kyouraku was also alerted back to the objection of their visit.

“Ah! Kisuke is going to check your reiatsu,”

Well finally!

Aizen’s eyes swept over the device, which made Kyouraku murmur a, “just for extra certainty.”

Kisuke had the suction cups already in hand, impatiently awaiting for Aizen to finally turn towards him instead of being constantly focused on Kyouraku. He was just seconds from patting Aizen on the shoulder... But he somehow backed off on the last minute, especially when Aizen spoke up again. 

“For extra certainty? My, you all lack a healthy dose of faith in me.” 

Oh yeah...Aizen sounded truly affected by that... Too bad the scornful undertone ruined all of their belief...

“Do you really think the King of Hell would allow me to roam Soul Society without any chains?”

Kisuke made an elaborate motion to Kyouraku, because if Aizen started his litany, then they would still be standing here tomorrow in the exact same spot, without any progress.

But Kyouraku just chuckled at him, which thankfully spurred Aizen on to glance behind him. As soon as their gaze connected, Kisuke made use of the opportunity to wave the suction cups of the contraption explicitly around. “Can we?”

“Why of course,” Aizen said infuriatingly calm as if that had been a given from the start. “I wouldn’t dream of obstructing your...investigation on me.”

Good.

And though Aizen’s body turned towards him fully, Aizen’s eyes returned back to Kyouraku. The second that Aizen started undoing the upper half of his kimono, Kisuke naturally averted his own gaze so he wasn’t giving off the vibe that he was ogling Aizen. But, when it became clear that Kyouraku wasn’t giving Aizen the same sort of...privacy, frustration bubbled up inside of him again.

Forget any anxiousness that he was troubled over before, the fact that Aizen was practically giving Kyouraku a striptease was just...annoying. And only because whatever Aizen was planning, wouldn’t gain Kyouraku what he thought Aizen was offering. Whatever that even was.

Whatever.

With the upper half of Aizen’s clothes hanging off of the obi, Kisuke inspected Aizen’s binding chain, which undeniably made him briefly come across the scar of where the Hogyoku used to reside. It made him for some reason even more uncomfortable and he had to swallow an excessive amount of saliva suddenly. Why did it make him so nervous? He had been close to Aizen in battle before, maybe not this close,...

He kind of minutely forgot what he was here for, until... 

“Are you going to proceed with your inspection?”

He looked at Aizen’s smug little smile and then just practically plopped the suction cups on Aizen’s main pressure points in the middle of his chest and his abdomen.

And naturally it earned him Aizen’s much needed evaluation...and Kyouraku’s hearty laugh. 

“If that is the sort of gentleness that you apply to your subjects, it is maybe for the best that you mostly deal with non-living subjects.”

“Be quiet...”...just for one second. “You can’t disturb the device’s reading.”

Aizen’s self-satisfied demeanour turned thankfully back to Kyouraku at that point. Not that that made him feel any better...

Gosh...could they just get on a futon together?!

When the machine beeped to signal the end of the reading, Kisuke quickly went over the statistics. Yet...nothing was out of the ordinary.

Aizen’s knowing glance at him was something he honestly could have gone without...

“It’s going to be a systematic check up.” he explained as if he was certain that he would get to the bottom of that mystery.

Nothing was a given with Aizen.

As expected, Aizen made no notion as if he was bothered with that.

In fact, when Aizen started dressing just as slowly, eyes...or motions again captured by Kyouraku’s enraptured gaze, Kisuke put the device back into his bag, and walked already back to the door in order to force Kyouraku to get a move on.

The sooner they were out of Aizen’s dangerous company, the better. 

Yet he did see Kyouraku giving Aizen one more glance before they turned the corner in the hallway.

Maybe he had to give Kyouraku a verbal warning.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he said as soon as they were out of earshot and practically out of the building. “but, it’s pretty clear that Aizen is trying to snare you into his web.”

Kyouraku only chuckled in answer, so he stopped the Captain Commander in order to try and let that piece of information sink in. It was already difficult enough to get Kyouraku’s attention in an area full of brothels, but didn’t Aizen’s behaviour evoke no suspicion at all?

“No, for real, he doesn’t have your best interest at heart, believe me. His intentions are anything but pure.”

Kyouraku laughed loudly this time. “Neither are mine.” he winked and left Kisuke dumbfounded standing there.

Okay, he was certainly missing something here.

-0-

Sousuke wasn’t one to wind down with music randomly, unless it were instruments that evoked some sort of emotion from him, like the Biwa or the Koto, accompanied by some melodic vocals.

Shinji’s foreign music initially didn’t impress him much. But surrounding himself every Friday with those somewhat heavy soul beats, made him appreciate the jazz at least. It wasn’t a bad taste in music whatsoever.

And if he had to be honest, Shinji deserved a chance as the main act, instead of as a side dish to the local band. The main attraction was a female singer, that besides her sultry vocals was also scantily dressed, but had nothing further to offer. The instruments that were played in the background were anything but harmonious. It was maybe even slightly out of tune.

Not that he was a connoisseur of music, but the melodic tones of the foreign instrument that Shinji played was practically soothing in a way. Shinji’s professional fingers played the perfect touch to a successful evening.

And thus, each time he visited the Blue Inn, he was anticipating Shinji’s act more and more.

But not for the chance to listen to his music. Shinji possibly couldn’t be missing from the Bloodbond after all. If he had to make a choice in men, his former captain was in fact a nice addition, a challenge for sure.

Kyouraku was practically already in the bag, so he needed something or...someone that he was forced to make some effort for. It was the Devil’s game, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have some fun on his own as well. 

Because no matter how many nights he attended Shinji’s performance late at night, he was in no instance welcomed with a smile. A sneer and a snapped, “What are you doing here?!” at best.

He always made it his objection to remain as last patron, so Shinji had to basically remove him physically from the inn. Luckily, his perseverance was perceived as charming by the owner probably, because every drink he wanted to offer Shinji, was handed over by Kiko strategically.

“I already told you to beat it last time, didn’t I make that clear?!” the drink in Shinji’s hand was untouched, like always...

It got about time that Shinji finally accepted his treats, because the amount of money that he had hidden safely, during his captaincy, was dropping significantly. He was barely earning anything, but was at the same time squandering everything.

He had to start saving up. What a change of lifestyle from his days in Hueco Mundo...

That had been the hardest part up until now.

“I thought it would serve as a nice treat after your diligent piano skills.”

His compliments evoked the opposite in Shinji though. 

“Ta fuck?! Ya think buying me a drink or two will get me to fall down on my knees and thank the freaking Soul Realm for yer almighty presence! Are ya insane?! No don’t answer that!” Shinji’s exaggerated motions made that diagonal blond bob shake along in a wild fury while the cognac spilled graciously from the glass.

Well, at least, the glass wasn’t completely full anymore, even though the liquid had gone to waste... 

“Of course yer fucking insane! Ya left me a fucked up mess and then ya think that ye can buy my forgiveness or some shit like that?!”

Shinji’s elaborate...explanation of their...history might come over as a bad break up to the owner of the inn, because she shuffled from behind the bar to the back of the inn, out of sight, as if to give them some much needed privacy.

She could still hear everything in that room what with Shinji’s loud voice.

At least, Shinji had his style together, that was something that didn’t directly turn Sousuke off.

In fact, Shinji had been dressed up entirely every Friday, but unfortunately the style conflicted heavily with Shinji’s mouth. Yet Sousuke could still silently appreciate the baby blue shirt that complimented that blond hair nicely, while a completely buttoned up waistcoat accentuated Shinji’s sinewy body. The tailored brown slacks showed just a hint of Shinji’s colourful socks, finished off with shiny dark brown and white shoes.

Fashionably in style with the jazz culture if Sousuke had to judge by the pictures on the wall.

Yet that mouth...

“What da fuck do ya want from me?!”

“I wouldn’t dare ask for your forgiveness, but a truce would be nice.”

“Ye are freaking insane!” Shinji pointed out in a flabbergasted manner, then sputtered out some more profanity, before throwing the leftover of the drink with all of his fury right into his face, before Shinji also stormed into the back.

Well...he couldn’t exactly call that progress, Sousuke thought as he wiped the strong smelling liquor from his cheek and neck with the sleeve of his kimono.

\----

When Sousuke walked back to his district, the rush of cold nighttime air made him remember the moist and sticky feeling of the cognac with a shudder.

And due to some fortunate events, he just had to run into a clearly drunk Kyouraku that was being supported by a hooded figure. It was as if Kyouraku had been attracted by the scent of cognac...

And while he approached Kyouraku all the same for a friendly greeting, the big man threw himself at Sousuke with such a force that he missed the step behind him, so it ended up with him practically sprawled on the steps and Kyouraku hanging off of him.

Kyouraku’s life support on the other hand had tried in vain to catch a hold of his/her companion and was now practically dragging Kyouraku back off of Sousuke.

Though when Kyouraku’s hands, surprisingly warm in the chilly evening, made their way into the lapels of Sousuke’s kimono, the hooded figure backed off as if they didn’t want the risk of being associated with them. 

Under normal circumstances Sousuke wouldn’t have needed the help to push Kyouraku away, but without pressure and currently being smothered by said man’s weight, made it just a tad bit harder. The heated breath that then also nuzzled into the left side of his neck drew unceremoniously a gasped, “Kyouraku!” out of him.

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but he would rather not be molested in the middle of the street... 

“You smell ravishing, Sousuke.”

He could have sworn he felt Kyouraku’s lips leave a trail of wet kisses, or was Kyouraku only trying to get a taste of the cognac?

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” The slightly hushed mutter of Kyouraku’s hooded companion still didn’t reveal the mysterious identity, but a glimpse of a porcelain face when the hooded figure tried a second attempt to drag Kyouraku off of him, was enough to identify those noble features.

“Kuchiki-san, what a surprise to encounter you in an area beneath your class.” 

He was struggling to pull Kyouraku’s sneaky palm, that had managed to slither as far as between his thighs, from out of his kimono. But he still caught Byakuya readjusting his hood hastily.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” A violent enhanced pull by the silently seething Kuchiki had Kyouraku straddling the concrete steps instead. “I’m only chaperoning this mess back home.”

“Of course. I wasn’t insinuating...” Sousuke trailed blatantly off while Byakuya hauled Kyouraku up none too gently so he was able to support the staggering Captain Commander once again. The two then stumbled further on their way.

“Goodnight Kyouraku-san!” he called out which delightfully made Byakuya falter slightly in his steps when Kyouraku just had to turn around with all of his weight to wave drunkenly back.

The beautiful glare that Byakuya saluted him with would have been menacing if it wasn’t portrayed by those slightly feminine features.

\---- 

The second he got home, Sousuke took a shower to wash away the smell of alcohol. He didn’t necessarily need an alcoholic aphrodisiac to lure Kyouraku in anyways. 

Yet the first five minutes the water was freezing cold and afterwards it was scalding hot, so he had to anticipate that brief interval where the temperature was moderately bearable. Unfortunately, his temporary relaxation under the spray was cut even shorter at the excessively loud commotion of a fight happening just outside of his flat.

The thin wooden slats that served as walls didn’t only manage to let in the cold, but also did nothing to muffle all kinds of sounds. Considering the kind of neighbourhood he lived in, it weren’t just moans of pleasure, but pain as well.

He couldn’t possibly be much of any help in severe situations, but curiosity got the better of him either way. Especially after that familiar...

With a towel slung around his hips, he peeked into the hallway. Only to confirm that he hadn’t misinterpreted the vicious roar. He barely glanced at the bloodied Soul on the floor, that probably hadn’t paid their rent/debt, because a flash of bright blue hair drew all of his attention.

Besides, the gang that had surrounded the indebted Soul all carried weapons in the form of a bat. Not exactly something Sousuke was going to meddle himself into. It just wasn’t his problem. He wasn’t going to play the good Samaritan if it wasn’t part of his plan.

Sousuke turned back around, into his flat, but by some miracle Grimmjow had caught him staring.

He jolted back reflexively when the swing of a wooden bat prevented him from closing the door at the last second. It made an inconvenient dent in his recently repaired door... 

Grimmjow then easily forced the door back open with a casual bump of his shoulder. “Well fuck! I never thought ta see your fucking face again!” 

“Grimmjow.” he addressed with an acknowledging nod. “I could say the same about you.”

Surviving Kurosaki was a feat, Sousuke could attest to that.

Grimmjow came threateningly near, which made Sousuke slightly uncomfortable in his near state of nakedness. The club was then practically used as a cheap form of intimidation when Grimmjow batted the end of the heavy object rhythmically into his palm. And even in movement, the besmirched speckles and spots of dried blood and other fluids, soaked into the wood, was hard to miss. “Heard your ass survived Hell, seems like yer a tough motherfucker, huh?!”

“Perhaps we should further this conversation when I’m dressed?” he suggested lightly.

Not that he should expect his Espada to understand, in fact the potential to make him feel even remotely awkward was enough for Grimmjow to approach him even further. If the raising of that bat had Grimmjow toying with the idea to attack his defenceless self or not, would remain a mystery to Sousuke when one of the members in the hallway called for Grimmjow at that exact moment.

With a last snort and feigned swing of the club in his direction, which made Sousuke admittedly finch and try to block an invisible incoming attack, Grimmjow left.

Sousuke remained standing there for a second longer in clear after shock, before he wisely locked the door.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to alert Grimmjow on where he lived...


	4. Hands on approach

**Chapter four: Hands on approach**

Kisuke snuck easily into the Shihoin estate, bypassing guards throughout the hidden hallways that he knew like the back of his hand. All those hide and seek games as a kid with Yoruichi did come in handy, stealth was something he proudly excelled in.

He stopped right in front of the room that currently held a pair busy in an intimate dance, judging by the pleasurable sounds coming from within. Certainly something that would warn most not to disturb the occupants. 

Which Kisuke did anyways, by pounding an annoying tune on the door with his knuckles.

A sigh and a groan, was his answer, those that weren’t evoked by the two participants on themselves, but by his excessive knocking.

A naked Yoruichi opened the door not soon after, her body gleaming nicely with a fine sheen of sweat.

“You better have a good reason, Urahara!” Soi Fon spewed out, still on the bed, yet covered up with a sheet.

“Duty calls.” Kisuke stated happily, barely motioning with the documents he held under his arm. All that naked bronze skin though made it a little hard to get straight to business. A dagger that flew just passed his vision broke his line of sight really quickly. “Sorry,” he attested offhandedly to Yoruichi’s furious girlfriend. “but, Yoruichi’s body and I have a history together...”

Which made Soi Fon bristle even further.

It had never bugged Kisuke that Yoruichi liked to show off her nudity proudly. They never had been an official couple either, so maybe that was why jealousy hadn’t exactly existed between the two of them. Just some quickies against any surface in the Urahara shop wasn’t a stable foundation to build a family up on.

Besides they had been best friends, before any deeper desires.

Soi Fon did have a problem with her girlfriend’s tendency to show off everything to the world at large, since she covered up Yoruichi with the bedsheet. Soi Fon was at that point already dressed herself and had sidled up protectively next to her girlfriend, watching him with narrowed eyes. 

“Are you certain he’s gay?” Soi Fon questioned suspiciously. 

“Yeah...” Yoruichi likely just remembered their lustful encounters vividly, because her wide smile was practically radiating. “well, he’s bi actually.”

He shook his head in slight disagreement. “If you want to necessarily put a label on it...” All those labels originated from the human world. Well, except to the nobility. Noble Clans had to fulfil a legacy, so naturally partnerships were only possible between males and females. But as non-aristocratic Shinigami they never had put a ticket with the words ‘Straight’ or anything else on their sexuality.

Yoruichi’s smile widened even further. “No, if I have to stamp an etiquette on him, it would be something different.”

What that exactly was, would be a guess either way, because she deliberately kept it her little secret.

Whatever.

He would rather go by no label at all. If he truly liked someone, he would know, it didn’t matter what their gender was. And he was talking about the sappy love stuff, not intensively subjected to lust, because his cock dominated that preference.

That secretiveness wasn’t appreciated by someone though.

“If you want to keep a certain part of yours intact, Urahara, you better state your reasoning for disturbing us, right now.” 

He practically thrust the file unto the smaller woman, because that was a serious threat to any man. 

Without waiting on Soi Fon having read the whole file, he summed up some of the side effects of the drugs he had tested in the lab. “Delusions, severe Reiatsu fluctuations, an increased or decreased heart rate, to name a few.” while Yoruichi glanced over her girlfriend’s shoulders to follow along.

The arrest order was visible at the bottom in red ink. Soi Fon could get her team ready. 

“How are these any different from the shit you cook up in your lab?” Soi Fon bit out furiously.

Man, she just didn’t like him, did she?

It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that anxiety and insomnia were rampant ailments to those of the Gotei 13 as well. 

“Well, first of all, it’s technically not my shit, not anymore. Second of all, the pharmaceutical section of the 12th division is directly connected to the 4th division. The patient is guided to the correct prescriptions and the exact doses, naturally followed up by one of the medics. And most importantly, while no medication is free of side effects, at least the ones in the 12th don’t lead to a near psychosis or pressure system failure.”

Yoruichi nodded in an understanding manner, while Soi Fon still looked ready to attack him at any given moment. Though a nudge from her girlfriend had Soi Fon disappearing to get her team ready, albeit reluctantly. 

With Yoruichi leaning in the doorframe, preventing him from getting inside, Kisuke looked behind him at the luscious gardens so he didn’t have to be confronted with her suspicious grin as soon as he admitted, “He was spotted in the same building that Aizen currently lives in.”

“So that is why you’ve involved yourself!”

How crude, that wasn’t his sole purpose at all.

“No!” he turned back around to deny it fully, which had him breaking out in a nervous smile regardless while she looked at him like that. “Kyouraku asked me to inspect Aizen’s Reiatsu, it was all a pure coincidence actually.” 

“Uhuh.” yeah...that didn’t sound believable, not one bit. “And you couldn’t pass off the Reiatsu reader to one of your subordinates?”

“It’s Aizen.” he gave as a poor excuse, which was actually legit. Putting Aizen in the hands of someone that wasn’t at least a second seat was dangerous, and even then it could cause troubles. Hinamori being a prime example.

The bedsheet dropped from her shoulders as she reached out to hold his cheeks between her palms. “You can’t let him go, can you?”

But he couldn’t really admire her curves when the underlying accusation cleared up his mind in an instant. “I can!” he futilely talked back. “Besides, it’s not me that you need to worry about, Kyouraku’s dick is actually pointing head on at Aizen. Since when did he bat for the male team?”

“And you rather want it to be your dick pointing at Aizen?”

He shoved her palms from his face. “No! Aizen...no!” Words, sentences, why did it all become a mush when Aizen was involved?! Scratch being anxious around Aizen or even the mere topic of him, Kisuke was a downright nervous wreck because of Aizen.

But, purely because the past taught him what Aizen was capable of, nothing more!

“Oh come on, Kisuke! Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed Kyouraku and Ukitake...”

“No?”

She clicked her tongue annoyingly. “Okay captain obvious, and you want to keep an eye on Aizen?”

He futilely waved his hand in her direction, gesturing that he was done with that conversation, he couldn’t win a discussion from Yoruichi when she had her mind stuck on something.

It was a good thing that Soi Fon reappeared then and there.

\----

Arriving back in that building where the drug dealer operated, together with the Detention Unit, had Kisuke instinctively glancing in the hallway that lead to Aizen’s flat. What where the odds anyways that Aizen would miraculously show up? 

But he caught himself in time and actually concentrated on his task at hand, only to find nothing at all. The person that sold the opiates was nowhere to be found, the room that had functioned as the guy’s shop was completely empty and asking some of the residents on the dealer’s whereabouts delivered them no clues whatsoever. 

This was the first time that he was actually leading a drug raid...and it turned out into a blatant fail. A good thing he wasn’t that naive recently graduated Academy student anymore, because his confidence would have been completely destroyed.

“He’s only the dealer though, we wouldn’t have been able to get rid of the problem in its entirety.” said one of the members of the Detention Unit while Soi Fon griped about the research having consumed too much time. 

It was not like he could test it on the spot, unless someone volunteered to be his guinea pig...

He sighed and glanced back in the hallway. For a minute he thought about passing by Aizen to check the status of his Reiatsu, but that would be ridiculous, barely a week had gone by, so the reading would be insignificant. And one pointless mission was enough.

-0-

After following Sousuke’s moves for a whole week, it was time to confront him yet again. Shunsui wasn’t surprised though that Sousuke wasn’t home at the time that he decided to pay him a visit. He still didn’t have his master key at hand, not that he needed that anymore...

Conjuring up the shadowy duplicate of Sousuke’s flat key, he got easy access anyway. Up until a certain point that was. 

_‘The boy has piqued your interest.’_his entry into the flat got disrupted by the materialisation of Katen in the doorway.

He couldn’t help the smile that appeared when he was faced with her red pouty lips. She normally didn’t interfere with his line of work, unless she felt threatened. 

_“He’s an enigma, I’ll give you that.”_

She inspected her painted nails disinterestedly. _‘A dangerous one at that.’_

Oh yeah, Sousuke’s reputation ran rampant throughout Soul Society, no doubt something that pleased the self-proclaimed lord.

_“How about this; he has my superficial interest, nothing more.”_

It might seem like Katen was jealous, but she hid her worries behind that possessive attitude. He knew his ladies even though they, or at least Katen, tried to play it off as simple greed.

Her glare only steadied, even when he tried to brush his knuckles along her cheekbone as if he was trying to brush away those silly worries. She dematerialised afterwards, probably bent on not giving off the vibe that she cared. 

That vindictive teasing mood had lessened drastically after their fight against Lille. His protectiveness over Nanao-chan had seemingly also thawed the ice between his ladies and himself.

It got about time as well...

He checked Sousuke’s belongings once again, yet with the same outcome in the end; nothing of interest could be found lying in the flat.

And knowing Sousuke’s ‘hospitality’, he took the privilege of pouring himself a glass of Cognac. He took a good whiff of the scent at the bottle, the rich smell of the brandy practically tickling his taste buds. And although tainting alcohol wasn’t a scheme he would connect to Sousuke, Shunsui still didn’t take a taste of the liquid, and merely took a seat at the table, awaiting Sousuke’s return. 

He had to wait a good half an hour before the man of the house finally showed up.

The slight hesitation in the turn of the lock had alerted Shunsui to Sousuke’s return. 

“Kyouraku-san?” came the exaggerated greeting. “You let yourself in, again.” Sousuke then proceeded to search the door for any hints on his breaking and entering, to no avail of course.

When Sousuke turned back his way, Shunsui pulled up the chair beside him, his left side, his good side. “Come take a seat, you did just come back from your work, didn’t you? I bet your legs are tired from standing all day, I’ll pour you some sake as well, you do seem to like that.”

The slight irritation on Sousuke became a lot more apparent the more he said, the aversion to look him straight in the eye was a given, yet that friendly smile didn’t waver one bit.

His suggestion wasn’t met with any opposition though. Sousuke came to sit down next to him straight away, feet tucked completely under the table while Shunsui had turned that chair previously so it had been facing Shunsui.

But he would rectify that. As soon as he had poured Sousuke his Cognac and presented it in front of him, he then took a seat again as well, before turning Sousuke’s chair so the smaller male was forced to face him head on.

“Might be cosier if we actually see each other, cheers!” he demonstrated his joviality by clinking his glass explicitly against Sousuke’s. 

Normally Sousuke would have long since taken a sip to show off how foolish Shunsui’s cautiousness actually was. He could count on mild cooperation. Sousuke hadn’t exactly raised his glass with the same enthusiasm, but that friendly smile though, remained strong.

“I hope you intend to drink with me this time, and not let the liquid go to waste again, Kyouraku-san.” 

“I certainly don’t want to be rude...” Sousuke’s chuckle was probably a result to Shunsui’s self-service. “But I figured you would like to rest after a day of hard work.”

“But then you should have known that I would have instead preferred a hot cup of tea...”

“My bad! If you prefer a nightcap...”

He was about to get up, but was pulled back down in an instant. “It’s fine, Kyouraku-san, that is, if you drink with me. Drinking isn’t much fun when done alone, wouldn’t you agree?”

Shunsui could attest to that, because that is exactly why he desperately sought company most of the times...

Sousuke watched him expectantly, waiting for him to take that first sip. Which he did. And it was not like he tasted anything differently than the familiar satisfying burn of Cognac. Sousuke didn’t follow suit, in fact, Sousuke smiled in a certain way specifically at him, before putting his drink to the side.

A blatant attempt to install some doubt into him.

Which Shunsui didn't even ponder over. “Where did you work again? At the local market here in Inuzuri, right?”

Sousuke’s glass of Cognac suddenly became an interesting object, the liquid was even twirled around a couple of times, before Sousuke looked at him again, head on this time. “Should it matter where, if I work legally and honestly for my money?”

“In theory, no.” he agreed with a shrug. “But, I’m asking because I visited the market twice this week and nobody seemed to recall you working there...”

He glanced minutely at the white teeth that became visible in a pearly smile, and after taking a second sip, he added, “Neither do you work for any other merchant, by the way, at least not declared as far as I’m concerned.” he gave a wink, purely to prove his point. 

“I see.” Sousuke nodded, seemingly amused. “You’ve been shadowing me, Captain Commander.”

Not entirely... 

“I did say that I was going to keep watch of you.”

“You did mention that, yes, but, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the task of the 2nd division? Wouldn’t your meddling be a conflict of interest?” Sousuke nodded confidently again before finally taking a sip of his own drink as well. “I’m pretty sure that is against the law.”

“Who says that other divisions aren’t involved in your case, Sousuke-kun, you are Central’s first priority, don’t you worry your pretty head over that.”

Sousuke momentarily stalled before taking his second sip.

“So...” he touched Sousuke’s arm, the one that wasn’t holding the drink. “It does matter **where** you work. Since we’re on the topic of law, Central actually implemented a new law regarding declared work, even outside of the Seireitei. Kind of as a prevention to the Black Market businesses.”

Sousuke’s gaze traveled to his palm, “I’m looking for work currently.” before they reconnected to his own. “It’s a little harder for me to find a job, given my history. I can’t really ask captain Hirako to write a recommendation letter to my next employer.”

“That could be a struggle, yeah.” he took his arm back to motion around them. “But that takes us back on the topic of you affording the flat, the Cognac... You can’t fool me with alcohol, Sousuke-kun, that should be obvious. This stuff is imported from the Human World, where it has been in their turn imported from overseas. Not cheap by any means.”

He could hold Sousuke’s gaze for a while, where it seemed, for just a split second, like Sousuke was trying hard to come up with the next excuse. It should have been obvious that with a little bit of digging, he could unearth the blatant coverups.

“And you can’t come up with the excuse of it being a gift from your landlord, charity in the Seireitei is already scarce, let alone in the Rukon district.” he drank the last of his Cognac before standing up, right beside Sousuke’s seat, whom followed his every motion with narrowed eyes. 

“Alright. I had some savings lying around, dating back from my time as a captain.”

“Yeah...that’s another wasp nest, I guess I better inform you now.” He took a few steps so he stood behind Sousuke’s chair, so he could plant both of his palms on Sousuke’s shoulders. In an act to insure that Sousuke remained seated, but also as a poor form of comfort. “There’s a trial running against you, in specific about Central trying to recover their payments in regards to your wages. And that retroactively to the date they suspect you were already conspiring against Central, which is presumably even before your title as Vice-Captain. That’s a long time... And I have to say that I agree, traitors shouldn’t be paid you know, kind of sets off the wrong example...”

His palms weren’t pressing down on Sousuke’s shoulders, but his little tidbit of info somehow felt like a heavy burden to carry, because the ramrod position of Sousuke’s back slackened sufficiently.

“So what you’re saying is, I’m not only jobless, but also indebted now.”

“Pretty much. Of course there is no verdict, yet, there’s not even a date set for your trial, yet, but it’s safe to assume it won’t be in your advantage anyways.”

He shouldn’t have informed Sousuke. He could have kept it a secret, so Sousuke would get the Hellbutterfly when the verdict had been set, which would have then set off as a bomb.

But in his opinion, given Sousuke’s not so stable past, maybe, it was better to let Sousuke know what kind of clouds where coming his way.

“Your compliance though would be helpful. It won’t sway Central’s opinion, again, at least not in your advantage.” He then partially hoisted Sousuke up, so the smaller male was standing up as well. “I will have to do a search, Sousuke, you know the procedures.”

But Sousuke turned around before he could even start his pat-down. “And here I thought you were visiting me, purely to enjoy my company.”

Nodding, he said, “I am enjoying your company, regardless of my reasoning on visiting you.” he then motioned for Sousuke to stretch his arms up above him, not that Sousuke complied immediately.

One thing was for certain, Sousuke’s smile was no longer present.

“That is the authority of the 2nd division, not yours.”

“I give the order, so it is my jurisdiction as much as the 2nd division’s’. But...if you necessarily want to wait on the official Hellbutterfly...” 

Sousuke kept his gaze for a painstaking minute, before he almost hesitatingly brought up his hands in the air. The large kimono sleeves fell down on their own accord, already revealing a great deal of skin.

Shunsui began at those slender wrists, even though Sousuke clearly wasn’t hiding anything there. But just the feeling of that smooth skin was something he possibly couldn’t pass up on. The fallen sleeves stopped at Sousuke’s elbows, where Shunsui had to unfortunately relocate his touch above the fabric of the kimono. 

Sousuke seemingly allowed him free rein, his gaze directed at the large cutout in Shunsui’s uniform. The lack of eye contact was likely the result of their current proximity, because they only had to close a couple of centimetres for Sousuke to bury his face in his neck.

Which Sousuke might have preferred when Shunsui came across a hard metallic object along Sousuke’s right bicep. He could have easily asked Sousuke to undress, but where was the fun in that? He now had his legal chance in feeling up that mysterious brunet.

So with the greatest difficulty, and under scrutiny of Sousuke’s raised eyebrow, Shunsui squeezed his large palm inside of the bunched up sleeve to get to the weapon that was tucked neatly inside a band.

Dagger finally in hand, he flung the weapon aside on the table beside them. “You are no soldier anymore, you don’t need a weapon.”

Central’s demands regarding Sousuke would be getting more ridiculous by the week, there was no other criminal treated with such heavy prerequisites than the one in front of Shunsui. Of course, the right weapon in Sousuke’s hands could turn lethal quickly, but...he doubted that Sousuke could do much, at this point, against a Gotei soldier with even mediocre Reiatsu.

“Are you serious?” Sousuke shook his head in blatant disregard.

Rules were rules though, recently implemented and only declared on one person basically. Not that Shunsui was going to do a pat down every week, how much he would even like that, it was a drag.

“You’ve attended the Academy, Hakuda is your means of survival now.”

Sousuke gave him a sarcastic grimace.

Of course, even a regular Soul with barely any knowledge or control over their pressure could wipe the floor with someone that limited their fighting style only to pure physical combat moves. It was crucial to be armed inside of the Rukon district...

Shunsui then continued his search, along a set of somewhat boney shoulders, and as he started patting down Sousuke’s chest area, Sousuke’s hands simultaneously lowered. Which Shunsui aided in raising once again.

A tiny smirk became visible on Sousuke’s lips by then.

Okay, Sousuke didn’t necessarily had to keep assuming the position, but it was a nice form of submission, Shunsui couldn’t lie about that. 

He squeezed delightfully along his journey of the planes of Sousuke’s front, desperately trying to get a cop of feel, even though the fabric’s density got in the way. The rustling of paper notes under Sousuke’s inner left breast pocket disrupted his fascination.

The perfect excuse to get a closer look.

Shunsui let his hands therefore disappear between the lapels of the kimono, though not immediately to the right destination when he could caress along bare skin first. His almost belligerent entry into the fabric had taken apart most of the kimono’s wrap, displaying everything nicely above and under the obi.

His eye would have drank in the sight hungrily, if he wasn’t so caught up in Sousuke’s gaze. Those hazel coloured eyes were watching him closely, intriguingly, daring him to look away first.

Shunsui already had a disadvantage with one eye, so he leaned in, his cheek grazing Sousuke’s ear, as he encircled his palms around a narrow waist, so he could effectively search in the back. His digits passed those delicious dips at the small of Sousuke’s back, before they glided almost naturally down to the beginnings of the valley of Sousuke’s ass.

“If that is how far you’re willing to go to feel me up, you could have simply asked me to get undressed instead, Captain Commander.”

The whisper against the damaged shell of his right ear stopped his hands’ journey at once. He had to mull over Sousuke’s statement a tad bit longer when it was said on his right side, where he had suffered more than just the top half of his ear being torn off. He couldn’t decide what was worse; hearing damage or losing part of his sight, in the presence of someone like Sousuke.

Instead of answering, his hands travelled back to the front, diving into the hidden pocket. As he took out the stack of notes, Sousuke’s hands lowered once again to catch a hold of his wrist.

“I need to live, Kyouraku-san, allow me that, at least.”

When Sousuke couldn’t exactly keep a hold of his wrist, due to their now blatant difference in strength, Sousuke changed his grasp to the stack of notes instead. Shunsui kept up the useless tug of war on the banknotes though, practically on the brink of ripping the thin papers apart, which had Sousuke letting go in the end anyways. 

He counted the six bills of 10,000 yen out loud, while he could practically see the irritation growing in Sousuke’s eyes. “I’m sure this isn’t everything that’s hidden inside of your treasure chest.”

Sousuke smiled sarcastically again.

He then folded the notes, before hiding them in his own inner pocket inside of his Shinigami robes. Then he urged Sousuke’s arms back in the air, time to search below the obi.

Getting down on his haunches, he became eye level to Sousuke’s crotch. The white fundoshi barely hid the outlining of a nice cock. Would it still count as frisking, if he patted along that length, or would he be getting too frisky? 

He chuckled at his own observation and started at Sousuke’s ankles, just above the cotton tabi. Sousuke surely wouldn't be hiding anything in his socks, if so, Shunsui would allow that little part to be overlooked, Sousuke did need to survive.

The length of Sousuke’s legs again didn’t necessarily need to be trailed, but it was lovely seeing those thighs quiver and spread of their own accord the closer he came to Sousuke’s core. The outlining of Sousuke’s shaft also became a little more pronounced by then.

He smirked up at Sousuke, while he blindingly ripped the dagger from its spot on the thigh strap that he had the pleasure of seeing before. Pocketing up that dagger, he asked for Sousuke to turn around, whom obeyed with a smirk of his own. 

That sneaky sneer was a little too vicious to be called flirtatious. For sure Sousuke was blaming him for the implemented confiscation, even though Shunsui hadn’t mentioned Sousuke being in possession of any weapons to Central.

Central was naturally cautious with Sousuke, as was expected. 

The back of the kimono hid away those smooth legs, but he hiked up that curtain bit by bit as he patted upwards this time. There was nothing that Sousuke could still be hiding at that point, except maybe between his cheeks...

Though an internal search might be going too far.

Yet, that didn’t stop him from admiring those sweet buttocks that were separated by a thin white strap of the fundoshi. His palms were just about to pass unto the inner thigh area, when Sousuke’s hand cut his journey short.

“I’m not hiding anything there, you can take my word for it.”

Sousuke turned around, and the kimono fell down like a curtain, covering everything up the moment that Sousuke tucked and wrapped himself in those fabrics again.

“Too bad.” he murmured with a hearty laugh as he stood up once again as well. It was fleeting, but he caught Sousuke’s eyes traveling to the dagger that he had flung aside on the table.

Let him have that, Shunsui thought, they shouldn’t drive Sousuke into a corner anyways.

“If you would now also show me the rest of that hidden cash, I’ll give a positive report about your cooperation, Sousuke.”

\----

With Sousuke proclaiming that it was best done the next day, since it was quite a journey, Shunsui had had doubts initially that Sousuke would lead him to his hidden treasure right away.

He was pleasantly surprised though that it turned out to be the truth. 

The woods in district 64, East Rukongai, not exactly unfamiliar surroundings, given the rumour that Sousuke had supposedly used the forest as his base to experiment on his guinea pigs for the Hogyoku...

And with the place being so desolate, except the local wild life, that wasn’t so hard to imagine.

Sousuke guided him through the forest, and after inspecting a couple of similar looking redwoods, stopped at a certain one. The semi large hole near the trunk of the tree, didn’t exactly distinguish that redwood from the numerous identical ones surrounding it. 

Yet the small safe that was procured from within the tree, probably made that one unique after all.

He counted 120,000 yen, which he unfortunately also had to confiscate.

At Sousuke’s plea to allow him a bare minimum in order to survive, he gave in. He shouldn’t be inclined to fulfil Sousuke’s request, but that cooperation had to be rewarded somehow...

“600? That’s not even enough for a decent meal.” Sousuke practically bunched up the money and hid it away. 

With less money to spent, Sousuke might be encouraged to look for a job after all. Which would be seen as some form of integration into society again. Or that is at least what Central hoped would happen. 

“Your luxurious days are over, no more dinners in fancy bistros. I’m afraid you’re going to have to adapt, like everyone else in the Rukon district.”

“Coming from you, that’s rich.” Yeah...well, then again, if Sousuke had followed the right path, his captaincy would have gotten him a decent amount of savings by now as well. “Besides, my days of Hueco Mundo are long since over, Kyouraku-san, Muken wasn’t exactly the Grand Hotel, was it? But now, I can’t even afford to make my own meals.”

He couldn’t exactly give advice regarding life in the Rukon district, given that the Noble district in the Seireitei certainly wasn’t burdened with money problems. 

“You could try the stalls in Inuzuri for readymade food.” those were probably the cheapest options...

“Healthy...” Sousuke griped lightly. 

“You know what, your easy compliance earned you a treat. I’ll take you out for a meal, that is one day less to worry about.”

It would take a while before they would reach Inuzuri again, anyways. And maybe he could further encourage Sousuke in the right direction?

Close to the borders of South Rukongai, they passed a theatrical performance. The small square held a self constructed platform while an audience had gathered in front of it, intriguingly watching the play.

The drama seemed to have the Quincy war as its theme, since one of the actors was suspiciously dressed as Bach, though the exaggerated big fake moustache he sported, gave it largely away.

“Ichigo, Ichigo, where are thou?!” ‘Bach’ went down on one knee to practically bellow it out into the square, which spurred on the arrival of his costar, whom judging by the orange wig had to be Ichigo. The abnormally large ‘attributes’ at the actor’s crotch was a bad innuendo over all.

“So it is true, you do have a large...sword!”

Still, Shunsui chuckled, just like the rest of the audience, which turned into a full-blown laugh when he was confronted by Sousuke’s puzzlement. 

“It’s a different sort of humour...” he attested. 

“Which will no doubt be a success in Inuzuri.”

“For sure.” he chuckled, before he lead Sousuke to one of the nearby bistro’s, they could still hear the noise of the play and the audience’s reactions. 

Sousuke hadn’t been exactly talkative during the journey, so Shunsui brought up the topic of employment soon after again. While Sousuke wasn’t under his supervision directly, it was still kind of on him to keep Sousuke on the path of right intentions. 

Who else was going to concern himself with that anyways? 

“There aren’t a lot of legal options left for me now, are there?”

“There are lots of options left, it is just a matter of trying something that might not be your first choice, then again, you had your chance at the top.” at Sousuke’s bland stare, he clarified, “In the Gotei 13.” because Sousuke’s dream occupation had never been an attainable reality. The Soul King should have never belonged to one of Sousuke’s options.

“Is that so? Well, tell me honestly, Kyouraku-san, would you still be able to function in a position where you’re under someone’s authority, now that you have had a taste of having all that control.”

He had far from all control, his decisions were overlooked by the Law, he needed to abide to Central 46 as much as any other Gotei soldier beneath him. 

“Of course, besides it’s not everything either, with high authority comes great responsibility, sometimes even with great sacrifices...” he trailed off, looking over the menu as an excuse to hide the melancholic mood that was about to take over on him.

Jushiro’s sacrifice to the Soul King was anything but a blessing by the deity Mimihagi, it had been a curse.

“I know how it feels to lose someone dear, Kyouraku-san. Sometimes such sacrifices, how hard it is even to bear, aren’t done for naught though. Sometimes it is the only way in which we can move forward.”

He glanced over the menu at Sousuke’s gentle smile.

“Gin’s death struck me hard as well.” 

How could Gin’s companionship to Sousuke possibly be compared to his own with Jushiro? Shunsui had cared, loved Jushiro, and of all of the emotions, those weren’t the kind that he would connect to Gin and Sousuke.

Shunsui mulled over that thought while he ordered for the both of them after Sousuke pushed the menu aside and told him, “I trust in your good taste.” 

“Gin turned against you.” He finally responded when their orders were taken.

Jushiro would have remained by his side until the end, if duty hadn't come between them that is...

“So I had to do what was needed.” Sousuke said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t you have done the same if you were in my place and Ukitake-san had been hindering you?”

Never. That would have never even crossed his mind.

“No.” he said resolutely as he tried to make some sense of Sousuke’s unwavering smile.

What a turn of their conversation... 

“Since you adhere to Soul Society and the Law behind it, regardless of **our** different points of view, can you honestly say that you wouldn’t have gone against your duty if Ukitake-san had stood in your way?” 

That was not something he was even willing to ponder about.

“My loyalties, as well as Jushiro’s weren’t...aren’t easily swayed, Sousuke. So there wouldn’t have been anything that could have driven us apart in the first place.”

“And yet, you are sitting in front of me, treating me to dinner. Isn’t that seen as some sort of blunder on your part?” 

A blunder on his loyalty to Central or a betrayal to Jushiro? He couldn’t exactly decipher what Sousuke was hinting at, neither did he fully want to take that guess anyways. It was maybe even best to steer the conversation to a point where Sousuke wasn’t the one questioning him.

“And how has Gin’s death moved you forward exactly?”

Sousuke’s lips curled even more, pronouncing that self satisfied expression that he was known for. “Believe it or not, but his disloyalty to me did have me thinking. I needed some time, that is why my sentence in Muken wasn’t exactly a punishment.”

Complete bullshit.

“So you had a sudden epiphany to obey the rules? Just like that...” he huffed disbelievingly. “I thought your defeat by Ichigo forced you to come to the conclusion that you had no other way out anymore.”

“Urahara-san’s seals handicapped me, nothing more, without them, Kurosaki-san wouldn’t have even stood a chance.” 

Sousuke had been defeated, was that so hard to admit, or was this all supposedly still part of his plan? 

He shook his head amusedly, no point in trying to point out the obvious. “Well...why don’t you honour Gin’s memory then?” He waited until their dinner was served when he saw the waitress returning with their dishes, before continuing, “You might as well make good on that promise by visiting the wet market or the local Inuzuri one tomorrow, there are lots of vendors that are looking for an extra pair of hands during rush hours.”

“You don’t give up do you?” 

-0-

Shinji glanced between the curtains, desperately trying to get a good look into the audience. But it was hard to get a proper view from the back of the Blue Inn. He could sit at the bar, maybe even take a stroll through the booths, especially at the far end, yet why give Aizen that satisfaction?

Besides, he was only checking if the persistent bastard had arrived already. Mai, the lead singer, and her band, were still on stage, but Aizen was normally already long since present before it was Shinji’s turn. 

So, he was now keeping a diligent eye on the people that entered.

There had been no Friday gone by, without Aizen bugging him with his mere presence. He had thought about switching his performance to Saturdays instead, but quickly shoved that thought aside. Why should he let Aizen dictate his life like that, the fucker had ruined it enough.

What was the deal with Aizen this time anyways?! 

He was well aware that his former lieutenant could get unhealthy obsessions, over an individual nonetheless, which could be considered flattering if it didn’t come from Aizen.

Because then it was anything but, it was damn freaking creepy, that was what it was. 

At least Aizen couldn’t use Kidou anymore to hide behind, there was that, but that didn’t make his former lieutenant any less menacing.

He shoved his bangs irritatingly out of his eyes when Mai blocked his vision when she had to sidle up to a swooning fan. Couldn’t she stick to the microphone?!

“Fucking Aizen.” He whispered to no one in particular as he peered into the dimly lit booth section. The smoke from the countless of water pipes ruined his sight entirely.

Leave it to Aizen to be able to ruin jazz for him...

A truce... Like that would ever happen. How about Aizen sold his Soul to cure Shinji of his Hollow, maybe he would consider it an option then.

No, actually. Being known as a Visored, while having him earned countless of disadvantages, like a significant drop in wages compared to other captains, wasn’t so bad. He had made peace with that part of himself. He had his Hollow completely under control now after all.

But that didn’t signify a possibility in forgiving Aizen. Also, and that was probably his main reason to keep a grudge against Aizen, was because he hadn’t been the only target of his former lieutenant. That was probably **the** greatest sin Aizen could have ever done.

The Hollowfication had closely knitted the Visored like an unbreakable bond, but no way in Hell were they gonna thank Aizen for that. 

His vision of the audience got suddenly completely blocked when Mai’s boobs were almost shoved into his face as soon as she tried to get behind the curtain again. “You weren’t really paying attention to my performance...”

Her right eye was only just visible when all of her long platinum blonde hair was practically swept to that side, giving her a seductive vibe. Although the long slits in her glittery dress, that revealed a good portion of her upper thighs probably held all attention. She didn’t need to fuss, she was popular enough with the male folk. 

She definitely wasn’t vying for his. 

“It’s already my turn?” he asked bewildered.

Aizen hadn’t shown up yet.

Did he finally get rid of the pest?

He undid the cuffs of his shirt, rolled up his sleeves to about his elbows, before he cracked his knuckles so his joints were ready for the arduous motions. And as he seated himself behind the magnificent instrument, he had already cleared his head mostly from any thoughts about his lieutenant. 

Because jazz soothed the Soul. The second his fingers touched the keyboard, he felt jaunty again. Induced by the jubilant tunes he procured, but partially also due to the fruity flavours that hung in the air by those that were puffing hookah.

All in all it was easy to forget what he had been so stressed over before.

Until he glanced over his shoulder, mid play, to see the fucking bane of his existence, seated at one of the tables in the front.

So much for getting rid of that pest... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ichigo, Ichigo where are thou? ;) He will be coming soon though, don’t worry.  
Also, don’t forget that you can request a kink for any of your favourite pairs!


	5. Effortful

** Chapter five: effortful **

The octaves turned shorter and the melody Shinji was playing turned almost angry on instinct at the sight of that bastard.

It didn’t exactly ruin his composition since his music was made up of improvisations in the first place, so it changed regularly, mostly according to his mood. He was by no means ever playing a standard piece.

And his audience likely didn’t expect that either, most were too drunk to care at that point. In that sense, he actually had a pretty shitty audience, especially now that **he **always had to be a part of his repertoire.

He glanced conspicuously over his shoulder, which unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by his stalker who seemed to be watching him constantly. Did Aizen have nothing better to do than bother him? 

What the heck did he do wrong anyways to be saddled up with a lousy vice-captain, turned traitor, whom also mutilated him for life? 

He huffed noisily, blowing his uneven fringe into his eye on accident, which made him miss a key and cause a severe case of eye twitching in the hope it would decrease the burning in that eye.

Just great! Fucking Aizen made a complete fool of him...

Not that the majority of his audience had been aware of that mishap, thankfully it was too dark for that.

He glanced back to see an almost amused smirk on that face.

Aizen was aware though, of course, the fucking bastard was obsessively observant when it came to him. Creepily so.

Music was supposed to heal his Soul. A sweet beat was the distraction that could take away all of his thoughts. Yet...recently Aizen’s presence was the distraction in itself. Because the heavy emotions regarding Aizen stirred the attention of his Hollow, which in turn made it harder to focus on his music.

He ended his play dramatically by pressing all ten fingers down on his keyboard, long before Kiko actually decided to close up. He just wasn’t in the mood today, he was frustrated as all Hell.

She nodded at him to ask what was wrong, but he just shuffled to the bar, groaned loudly while he took a seat, crossed his arms on top of the counter and purposefully hid his face in the crook of his arms. That way he didn’t have to see Aizen.

He heard the clink of a glass being put down next to him.

“He can shove that drink up his ass! I already told him that!” he muffled angrily into the little fort he had created with his arms.

He got cuffed over the head, “Don’t be so melodramatic! You just scared the poor boy away.” Kiko scolded. 

“Fucking finally!” he peeked up from the crook of his arms, but Aizen was actually still seated in the same spot... Then who did he...?

Kiko motioned at the one that had apparently sidled up right next to him, but was now walking back to his table in the back.

That made him even more frustrated. Did he just miss the chance for a quick release of his pent up frustrations? “Fuck.” he muttered while his Hollow’s growl practically reverberated through his mind.

He looked back at Kiko.

“There goes your booty call for the night.”

He’ll hunt him down in no time, his Hollow liked that kind of thing.

To say that he was following the black haired man bun on his heel, next, was a given.

He had to pass Aizen first, which he did with a certain strut. Knowing Aizen was waiting on his salvation, yet he left the bastard sitting there...Hilarious!

When Shinji caught up to the booth the black haired male was seated at, he was mildly surprised that the guy wore glasses. Glasses can be a kink to some, it just isn’t to him. But it made his new companion look edgy, a little different to the nerdy look that Aizen used to sport.

Actually, he leaned in closely to take a good look in those eyes, they were a deep blue and didn't seem to be capable in forming anything but that cheeky twinkle. Nope, definitely not Aizen in disguise. 

His experience with Aizen’s hypnosis made him instantly double check after all.

To be honest, Aizen looked more like a twink now.

He glanced over to where he knew Aizen was seated, and sure enough, his stalker had his gaze turned to him.

Shinji grinned, mostly in reaction to what he was about to do; he put an arm around his company for the night and whispered the offer to go to one of the 24hour inns in the neighbourhood.

He hadn’t even asked the man’s name, frankly, he didn’t even care, because all he wanted was to rub it in Aizen’s face that his presence tonight had been for naught.

\----

That wasn’t exactly how Sousuke hoped it would have gone.

He was well aware of his captain’s rather easygoing nature as far as one-nightstands went, since many visitors had come out of the captain’s quarters of the fifth division. And he wasn’t talking about the duration of his own captaincy... 

Shinji’s flings had never returned after their walk of shame though. But it had unfortunately quickly been followed by Shinji’s countless boasts from the night before...

And while Sousuke had been living in Inuzuri for a couple of months now, he hadn’t exactly caught on to any seduction techniques. A sexworker, standardly someone of low IQ, likely had nothing to teach him.

How difficult was it anyways to lure in a man?

Well, apparently, it wasn’t as easy as he had hoped it to be. The slight friends with benefits relationship -or more like enemies with benefits- with Gin was the only experience he ever had.

He had thought Kyouraku to be an easy prey...but it had been rather humiliating that he had actually been played by the Captain Commander, and was now near broke.

No matter though, he will get Kyouraku back for that.

Stopping at one of the neon lights of one of the many brothels, he made some hand signs and kept a close eye on the shadows it created to make sure that he wasn’t shadowed by Kyouraku.

There was nothing out of the ordinary though.

It could be that he hadn’t been literally shadowed, but followed by some of Kyouraku’s subordinates, someone Sousuke wouldn’t directly recognise.

He looked at the passersby, trying to make out a familiar face that had been following his footsteps since the Blue Inn.

No such luck either.

Resuming on his path back home, he glanced over his shoulder once or twice, just to make sure. Still in his haste though to return to his flat, he smacked right into an oncoming pedestrian the second he looked back.

“You fool!”

An apology had been lying on the tip of his tongue when the voice and the look of the person’s getup swallowed those words in an instant.

The hood had fallen off during their collision, so Byakuya had hastily slid it back, but it had been too late to hide his identity now.

“Kuchiki-san?”

He was literally brushed off, on purpose ignored, but he wouldn’t be shoved aside a second time that night. Grabbing the Kuchiki by his wrist, he prevented the other from passing him.

“Kuchi-” The fact that he had no reiatsu to spare was still something he had to get used to, sohe was suddenly literally overwhelmed when Byakuya reversed their roles in the blink of an eye. He ended up being pushed against the side of a building, his words muffled behind Byakuya’s palm. 

“No need to make an announcement.” Byakuya’s light grey eyes bore into him, awaiting some sort of confirmation that he would keep quiet this time, before the palm finally disappeared.

“Why so ashamed of your trespassing?” Byakuya’s glare deepened as he looked the Kuchiki heir up and down. “Or could it be that you’re not on duty? Meaning your visit is purely for...personal reasons?”

Not the unreasonable hour, but the lack of Gotei uniform beneath the cape gave it away. The small opening of the black robe at the chest revealed just enough of a formal kimono.

The Kuchiki heir was either speechless or he had no excuse at the ready, since that glower only increased. The retort of, ‘What are **you** doing here?’ would have been better than pure silence.

“I don’t see any drunken Kyouraku for you to chaperone...” he provoked.

Yet that only deepened the glare.

Could it be that Byakuya had been visiting one of the brothels? No...For someone with such a pristine reputation, not to mention countless of admirers at his feet, the Kuchiki heir could have had his own personal harem in the safety of his estate. 

What could possibly be of Byakuya’s interest in such a filthy neighbourhood as Inuzuri? 

“Oh, that’s right, your wife was borne here.”...if he remembered correctly. “You must be looking for a new one...”

That stirred a little too much and it spurred on the threat of Senbonzakura. The steel of the blade glinted in the moonlight as it was pushed against his jugular.

“Now you’re becoming too bold, Aizen-san.”

This close he could partially see into the hood, Byakuya wasn’t even wearing his hairpieces?

His visit then was most definitely for personal pleasure. My, my, he had never thought the Kuchiki heir to partake in such...dishonourable practices.

His chuckle had Byakuya pressing Senbonzakura firmer into his skin.

“My bad, that was too bold indeed.” he palmed Byakuya’s wrist, the one that had Senbonzakura in a firm grasp. The porcelain skin was riddled with veins in that straining posture.

What a show of emotion as well, he struck a sensitive cord, that was for sure.

The hood casted a shadow on Byakuya’s face, darkening that stone cold expression. His palm was merely dismissively glanced at. 

“I don’t think my affairs are any of your business.” The blade dug deeper, making him swallow on instinct when it rubbed against his jugular.

“You’re right.” he patted Byakuya’s wrist lightly, hoping it would persuade him in lowering that zanpakuto.

The little glaring contest was kept tight for a while longer before the sword at his neck disappeared, along with its owner. The slight breeze caused by Byakuya’s shunpo had the neon sign above him swaying lightly. He instantly checked the shadow on the ground, that did become a habit of him fast. He needed to keep an eye on the master of shadows.

But this little display... Since when was it so easy to rile Byakuya up anyways? That was... interesting.

\----

Coming home to find Kyouraku already in his flat was also becoming a habit fast, it didn’t even surprise Sousuke anymore.

“Shouldn’t you be already sleeping, Kyouraku-san?”

He didn't even inspect the door anymore, it was useless. Besides, the Captain Commander undoubtedly was in constant possession of the masterkey when planning his visits.

Kyouraku was seated at his usual spot, the chair next to him was used to prop his feet up on.

“The Green Gate closes at a little over midnight, and that on the weekend...” Those broad shoulders shrugged. “I had to find company somewhere else. And this time I come prepared.” Kyouraku sloshed around a bottle of liquor, “I brought my own.” one that he supposedly bought on his way over.

“And I...am your first choice?” he approached Kyouraku, trying to discern how drunk he actually was. “Isn’t that a little bit sad that you have to resort to the company of a crook like me?” The sweet alcoholic scent that he got a breathe of, seemed to waft off of the other permanently, so he couldn’t be sure. 

“I need to keep watch over you.”

Neither did Kyouraku’s actions betray blatantly that he had been drinking, no slurring words, no stumbling around. Although, the man was currently seated. 

“Of course...” when Kyouraku was about to pour him a cup as well, he stopped those actions, not in time since the tiny cup was already practically filled to the brim. “No, I’m going to make myself some tea.” In the midst of heating water, he was leaning against his counters, watching his enforced visitor. “Why don’t you move in? That keeps me under your watchful gaze 24/7.” 

The cup that was meant for him was long since gone... 

“Your company is pleasant, but you know as they say, too much of a good thing is...too much.”

Did Kyouraku even understand the definition of, too much? It din’t apply to drinking, apparently...

“So...in that case, I could technically break into the Kyouraku estate next? It’s a change of atmosphere, I’m sure the surroundings are a lot nicer as well, almost picturesque.”

Any neighbourhood was better than the Rukon districts above number thirty.

The comfortable position of Kyouraku, with his palms on the back of his head and his legs stretched out, made the hard wooden chairs seem almost ideal. When he also closed his eyes, Sousuke thought that the other had fallen asleep, but a deep rumbling chuckle proved him wrong. “You’re welcome to try, but, I don’t think you’ll get far...” 

Security in the aristocratic district? How shocking...

He looked at the pot stationed on the burner, but it wasn’t boiling yet. It would take some time. “Funny how those power dynamics are enforced upon us.” It was better to join his visitor. “You’re allowed to abuse your power, but the common folk is forced to walk in line...” Taking a place opposite Kyouraku, he leaned his chin on his palm as Kyouraku glanced minutely at him. 

“To prevent total anarchy there needs to be hierarchy.” Kyouraku then straightened up, putting his elbows on the table to face him directly. “Sounds somehow familiar to you, since you ruled Hueco Mundo with an iron fist as well.”

“That is different, Hollows need a master. You can’t compare a dog to a human either.”

The other gave him an indicating nod. “Sounds like you’re justifying your dictatorship.” The cup that was meant for him was refilled, along with Kyouraku’s own, before it was put in front of him. “You’re going to dry out by the time your tea is ready.”

He shoved the cup back to Kyouraku’s side. “I don’t drink this late, I will have trouble falling asleep.”

“That’s odd,” the cup wasn't wasted though, the liquor in it disappeared quickly again...“the alcohol helps me find my sleep.”

“That doesn’t surprise me...” Drinking a whole bottle would likely knock anyone out. “And I’m not excusing my reign. Any leader holds privileges, but it becomes corrupt when certain criminal deeds are looked over in favour of those with a title.” 

Kyouraku sat back once again, hands behind his head as if it was difficult to keep himself upright. Yet nothing betrayed that the man in front of him was close to nodding off. “The nobility is not free to do as they please, I can attest to that. The rules are there for everyone.” 

“Prosecution only exists amongst the members. If for say you raped me, someone of the common folk, and left me for dead, who do you think will get the blame?” He leaned it, pouring another cup for the walking keg. Maybe that would ease Kyouraku quicker unto his futon. “It won’t be you. Worse if I was a woman, surely I must have acted provocatively. Victim blaming as it’s called, something the Seireitei excels in, while you, the noble would have done nothing wrong.” 

He had seen enough as a child, being born in district five, West Rukongai had him living peacefully, compared to other districts. But, there had been cases just as much where their lack of title made them aware of their place in Soul Society. His mother had been harassed by a Gotei soldier, yet it had been her fault... Nothing bad had happened because he had been able to prevent it on time, there were instances though that Souls around them weren’t that lucky. 

Kyouraku raised an eyebrow. “I don’t tolerate such behaviour on anyone, noble or not, we are not all the same. But if you’re so concerned, why weren’t you protesting for the common folk instead? Why desperately seek the throne when you could have advocated for complete equality for everyone?” he then nodded in the direction of his tiny kitchenette. “Isn’t your water boiling yet?” 

Sousuke shook his head. “There needs to be some form of authority, I don’t disagree with you on that. It’s the dubious power play that bothers me.”

“That brings us back to your reign in Hueco Mundo. Your authority over the Espada was nothing short of a dubious power play when manipulation turned your army against each other. How can you fight an enemy when you can’t even turn your back on your own kind for fear of being stabbed?”

Luck had been on his side with that instinct, if his Espada or Arrancar had gotten the notion that he was suppressing them, then they would have turned on him. He had expected loyalty and such beasts adhere only to power. His massive reiatsu had been the power that forced them to kneel. 

“I already told you; Hollows rely on instinct, they eat each other to become stronger, they’re like savage wild beasts. They need to be tamed, but I can’t take away that instinct.”

Kyouraku leaned into him with a smirk. “That rivalry was nurtured by you.”

Sousuke could have sworn that he felt one of Kyouraku’s knees brush against his under the table.

“I don’t think you were a part of my army, gossip isn’t a reliable source, Kyouraku-san.” When he repositioned, he could say for certainty that the other's knees were practically brushing his. Would it be too bold to trail his leg along Kyouraku’s calves? Initiating anything more than merely looking deeply into each other’s eyes turned out to be harder than he thought. He never had to initiate anything with Gin.

How did one set the mood? He had practically stripped in front of Kyouraku, but that had apparently been too bold, since Kyouraku had called their visit short, quickly.

What more did he need to do?

Sousuke should have taken advantage of that frisking the other day, yet he had been too pissed at that moment to give in to Kyouraku. Being robbed of one’s values would plummet anyone’s mood.

“Grimmjow has told Kisuke bits and pieces I believe.” He snorted when Kisuke was mentioned. Of course... “And I don’t think Grimmjow made anything up.”

“Then he must have dutifully joined the Gotei 13, so he can spew out about all that I wronged him.” he said smoothly, while he was trying to make up his mind if he should go in for a touch of his leg or not. Being rejected stung, especially by someone that was regarded as easy. “Oh no, that is right, I saw Grimmjow the other day...” Kyouraku’s good eye widened while his body slouched back into the chair, unfortunately moving those knees out of the way as well. “And I could have sworn that he wasn’t wearing a Gotei uniform. He has actually turned rebel...” he clicked his tongue. “Must have been his instinct, because who would possibly pass up the offer to join an established and honourable army such as the Gotei?”

“I have doubts that Grimmjow would have adjusted easily.”

Sousuke was about to agree but when the sounds of water being sloshed over resounded, it became clear that the water for his tea was boiling over.

When he returned with his cup of tea, he decided that their conversation could maybe turn into a more flirtatious direction. Else it would be difficult to get anywhere...

Plus he had been able to glance under the table and Kyouraku’s knees seemed to be spread far apart. An open body language that revealed his presence was more than engaging to the Captain Commander.

Though that made it still difficult to reach over and casually start some footsie.

“Do you know how I went about ranking my Espada?” 

That had to have been a point of conversation to the Gotei sometime.

“Power wise?” Kyouraku’s arms were crossed over each other, which could be evaluated as defensive, his posture was contradicting... “With number one your strongest.”

Sousuke smiled. A common misconception. “Wrong.”

“The first being the one you created first?” Kyouraku guessed.

“Wrong.” 

Purely at random, their numbers created competition that could keep them distracted long enough not to scheme against him. It was as simple as that.

“You can’t imagine?” Kyouraku shrugged in a clueless fashion. “Blatant favouritism. My Primera being my favourite, and can you guess why?” 

“Starrk? I remember him...” Kyouraku said fondly.

He leaned into Kyouraku, deliberately looking him in the eye. “That facial hair, long curls, that easy going nature...doesn’t that remind you of someone?”

The Captain Commander leaned completely into him as well.

He wanted to trace Kyouraku’s five o’clock shadow, ignite that fire in the flirt, but his palm was grabbed before it could reach his chin. “You took advantage of your Espada?”

Kyouraku’s single eye bore into him, no longer silently amused.

“Never. I did not sleep with my subordinates.”

The grip around his palm was strong, unrelenting.

“You slept with Hinamori-chan.”

“No, I did not. It may have-”

“For all your talk of equality, you don’t seem to have a problem in forgetting your own abuse of power.”

Tugging experimentally didn’t release Kyouraku’s firm grip, it only seemingly worsened.

Kyouraku wasn’t listening.

He was tired and frustrated on his lack of any progress with either of the two men he had envisioned for the BloodBond. He couldn’t uphold any polite smile anymore.

Kyouka Suigetsu had made it look damn easy to manipulate people. Yet it had only managed to alienate him from any real contact any further. 

He suddenly also didn’t feel like doing any sort of effort to woo the Captain Commander that night, since it seemingly turned into a failure each time.

“I would like to sleep. Could you come back another day? Preferably at a reasonable hour?”

Kyouraku was smiling annoyingly, something that made him itch to grab the bottle and attack the drunk fool with it.

Yet, he managed to hold himself back. His wrist was released at that point as well, while Kyouraku made motions of, finally, leaving. 

“Oh, have you looked for a job already?”

He didn’t look at Kyouraku directly anymore, and merely glanced from his still seated position while the other had long since made his way over to the door. 

His silence was likely the response Kyouraku had been looking for, since the door closing was Kyouraku’s own answer.

“Easy, my ass.” he mumbled to no one in particular while he took a sip of his tea, only to come to the conclusion that it had turned cold already...

He sighed.

At this progress he was never going to get to a BloodBond with six men. 

-0-

The Black Market; known for all the goods that Central forbade, whether they were consumables, counterfeit or genuine, assassinations, weapons or yes, stolen Zanpakuto. Anything imaginable could be bought there. Residing underground, thus the name Black Market, found its entrance through an abandoned inn in the centre of each wind direction, at least currently, of the Rukon district. 

Forever changing its base, since prosecution laid right around the corner every so often.

The technique to make a room throughout the use of reiatsu was not just something inherent to Kisuke’s style. The merchants were not all simple Souls that lacked the right amount of energy to become a soldier. In fact, the sellers consisted of dropouts from the Academy and fellow Gotei traitors. Looks wise, the market had something of an underground city, full of motels, restaurants and flats. 

Housing was not an option in the Black Market unless you were a part of the henchmen of the syndicates. 

And while Sousuke had garnered the reputation of being a thorn in the eye of the Law, he couldn’t exactly knock on that black door either. While the ringleaders were off limits, the smaller merchants weren’t. He could negotiate, manipulate them even.

“My percent.” he motioned when he finally got a hold of the drug baron in the rather crowded street.

“I don’t know...” Seijo shrugged. “...ketamine wasn’t really founded by you necessarily.” he said before he called over Ryoichi, the local dealer that had been selling in his flat complex. The exchange of cash and pills was openly done so.

Had it been smart to trust someone like Seijo? No, but that formed his only source of decent income now. 

He would never, ever be caught selling for a local merchant. Such a job was unbecoming for someone such as himself, that should be obvious. So this was his only refugee as a job. 

“You asked for an anaesthetic that could get a Shinigami of Kuchiki’s calibre down, you asked, I provided you with the list of components that you would need. Now, you’re going to give me my percent.”

Ryoichi was then sent on his way, before Seijo turned his way again. “Did we have a contract? I think not.”

Much more than a glance wasn’t spared on him after that. Seijo was long since already talking to a customer by then.

That didn’t really sit well with Sousuke.

He grabbed Seijo by the front of his samue top, the man was a couple of centimetres shorter than him, so that made it easier to assert his dominance without any reiatsu.

“Contracts don’t need to be written on paper, we had an agreement, something you’re going to abide by.”

Ryoichi didn’t seem to be too far off though. “Let go, or you’ll find your Soul Sleep pierced.” it was said in a drone and the boy stumbled over his words so that meant he was probably under the influence of something. Ryoichi’s senses therefore reacted slower, easier to deflect the metal poking into the small of his back, but the drugs skewed Ryoichi’s current judgement, making him unpredictable. 

It hadn’t been wise to attack a lower henchman like Seijo. He might be standing on the same ‘side’ as Seijo, the opposition or commonly known as the rebels in Central’s eyes, but he was in no way affiliated to the black market syndicates. His reputation was a fail, he had rebelled against the Seireitei, but he had been caught in the end. 

Seijo’s smirk as he slowly let go of his shirt widened while the metal rod kept poking into his back.

He was mortal now and while he would never fear his life, being that he was untouchable, it didn’t hurt to remind the two of their fate should anything ever happen to him. So he leaned back, making the rod dig painfully into his spine.

“I am indebted to the King of Hell, my freedom isn’t exactly, ‘free’, are you sure you want to take my place?”

Hell should count as a decent warning now that it had opened it’s gates to Shinigami as well.

Seijo’s smirk lessened and he motioned at Ryoichi, whom didn’t seem to have caught on to his threat at all. It took another gesture from his boss before the metal finally disappeared. The weapon flew passed his vision as it was hidden away again. The poker looked to be as sharp as an icepick, designed to pierce easily into the Soul Sleep or the Binding Chain.

“My percent?” he asked sweetly.

He got his percent, but it would be safe to say that he shouldn’t show his face down in the Black Market for a while.


	6. Resident Hero

** Chapter Six: Resident Hero **

Kisuke’s nerves were already jittery and jumping before Aizen even opened the door.

“Urahara-san? What a surprise...” Aizen then practically invaded his personal space to glance into the hallway. That familiarity had made Kisuke automatically take a step back. “Isn’t Kyouraku-san here with you?”

Which had Kisuke glance suspiciously into the hallway as well. “Why would he be?”

“To hold your hand of course.” Aizen answered with an infuriating smile, before nodding him inside. “You’re so apprehensive around me.”

And with reason.

Knowing that Aizen wasn’t far off from that assumption made Kisuke try to hide that apprehension with strategically lowering his hat to hide any sort of expression his eyes were blatantly giving away. It made him also deliberately stride with big steps into Aizen’s flat.

Aizen didn’t make any effort to lead him to the table, they just stood at the doorway which gave their exchange a rather unpleasant vibe.

“Oh by the way,” adjusting the strap of the bag over his shoulder, Kisuke confidently stated,“the checkups are going to take place in the twelfth, starting next Wednesday.”

Aizen raised a brow, “In the twelfth? It takes me practically a whole day to get there.”

Sticking his hands into his lab pockets, Kisuke tried to be as apathetic to that as possible. Which was rather easy, considering he really couldn’t care less. 

“Despite you thinking otherwise, I do not posses Shunpo right now, so I can’t just flashstep my way over there...”

He nodded in a non-committal matter. “If I say the check-ups will take place in the twelfth from now on-”

Aizen gestured to calm down with his hands. “I will be there, Urahara-san, don’t you worry. Besides, I couldn’t possibly disobey an order from a...are you even a seated officer now?”

No, he wasn’t, he was merely an assistant. In fact his reputation wasn’t entirely restored yet. Central was of course informed of Aizen’s experiments, which were at the time blamed upon Kisuke. But, that didn’t guarantee him now an instant salvation from Central. Being condemned by the Law once, despite being falsely accused, would have to force Kisuke to seek a formal apology from Central.

Such were the rules.

Thank you very much Aizen, he thought as he kept a neutral look tight at Aizen’s sugary sweet stab at his pride.

Not answering, he walked up to the table voluntarily to set his bag down, so he could unpack the contraption again.

“And your checkups will be weekly now.” Weekly checkups were still redundant, but at the same time, even the slightest change in Aizen’s pressure was crucial.

“I see, my dormant pressure status must be under your constant scrutiny. I’m sure your place in the twelfth must therefore be invaluable.” Aizen said sarcastically.

“That is not my only job, obviously.” he gave a remarkably blasé answer while he motioned Aizen over to start the Reiatsu reader. “You’re not that important.”

Aizen shockingly put a hand over his heart, acting as if that was the greatest insult. Which it probably was considering Aizen’s personality...

The other then approached him slowly and when Aizen was at a certain distance so Kisuke could reach over and place the suction cups, Aizen moved infuriatingly passed him.

He huffed a exasperated breath while Aizen chuckled, before leaning against the table next to him. When Aizen then dared to touch the reiatsu reader, no doubt intending to sabotage something, Kisuke had been ready to slap those curious palms off, but Aizen just shoved the contraption further unto the table before hoisting himself up on the edge. 

He watched as Aizen then undid the top half of his kimono, before suggestively motioning him over with a single finger.

Kisuke stood there awkwardly a second longer, before finally getting his bearings under control. Yet, when he was within touching distance of Aizen’s knees, those legs suddenly spread widely to make room for him.

It probably wouldn’t have been that noticeable to Aizen, given that his hat thankfully shielded off his eyes, but his gaze followed the spread of those knees almost in a trance.

Couldn’t Aizen cooperate normally for once?!

Clearing his throat, he shook his head in order to figuratively get any dirty thoughts out, before he focused on his task at hand and kept his eyes above waistline. Whatever Aizen was trying to do, wouldn't work on him.

He also remained at a distance instead of taking place in that inviting spread of...No. Seduction techniques wouldn’t work on him, despite his cock probably having another thought to that... 

To say he was proud of his own perseverance was saying something.

The end of the reading came nothing to soon, the results? Unquestionable regarding that dormant status.

Aizen took a peek as well. “No findings...surprised? I suggest you hang it above your bed, Urahara-san, that way you can compare all results in excellent detail.”

“I will.” He smiled before packing everything back up and getting the Hell out of there.

-0-

It didn’t take long for Sousuke to get into trouble. And this time he was as innocent in the instigation as he could be, after all a simple glance could be taken the wrong way in the Rukon district. The four directions of the Rukon were crime infested.

The possibility that he would eventually come upon someone that he had wronged in the past, wasn’t unimaginable. Sure he didn't sport his -vice- captain looks anymore, and his hair wasn’t swept back, but swept to the side, but he was still undoubtedly recognisable to the majority of Souls.

On his way to his regular visit to Shinji on a Friday night, his course was cut off before he could even reach district 77. An arm embraced his shoulders suddenly as the guy, who seemed to be a good foot taller, guided him to the side, off of the already badly constructed path. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t recognise the guy, the dirty blond hair and scrubby unshaven appearance didn’t tell him much on why he had been cornered specifically.

Breaking the hold the guy had on him was rather simple, a little too simple, given that it was a familiar move to anyone with basic knowledge of Hakuda. He stepped back, deliberately onthe guy’s feet, loosening the hold which gave Sousuke the advantage of turning the guy’s arm in favour of breaking that appendage if the other so much as moved.

With the guy’s back practically stationed against the ramshackle building behind him, it left Sousuke’s unguarded. He really should take that possibility into account more often now that it became difficult to sense hostile energy approaching. 

He was surrounded in the blink of an eye by at least seven men. Outnumbered, especially considering his lack of reiatsu, his fight was already unfair to begin with. 

In no way shape of form was he inclined to lessen his own chances by breaking the guy’s arm in his hold, yet he didn’t let go in an instant. He had tried to back himself into the corner instead so it provided some sort of protection, yet a sickle’s blade that threatened to decapitate him made him change his mind and let go of the guy that had initially cornered him.

“Not so smart for someone that used to be a big shot.” sounded from behind him.

Alright, he was recognised and thus targeted deliberately.

The sickle’s weight heavy on his shoulder. And when he glanced around him, the rest of the group seemed to be carrying similar weapons.

A gang was his initial thought.

When he was patted down by the blond guy that had attacked him, he was beginning to think he was dealing with common thieves instead. But to have them operate in group?

It was dark, but the couple of lanterns hanging off of some of the buildings gave him enough light to be recognised. Or at least, it should be obvious enough to the rest of the Souls that passed them by. Yet, being attacked gave the passersby reason enough to continue walking, barely even glancing at the way he was literally robbed in the middle of the street.

The money, his commission, that he earned from Seijo, already pocketed up by his robbers.

Hands felt around even lower, almost going straight to the only sort of protection he had; the dagger strapped at his thigh. The guy’s head was already dangerous close to his knee, and with the sickle preventing him from using his upper body, kneeing the scrub was the only sensible solution that came to Sousuke’s mind at that point.

Not really the best idea in his current position, yet ending up with no protection was worse. It had cost him great effort, a lot of money actually, to get those weapons in the first place, what with the no weapon rule instilled upon non military personal. No blacksmith could be found in the Rukon district anymore, while they used to reside in at least every district.

And seeing as he had to avoid the Black Market for some time, he would be rendered near helpless. What was left anyways? Crafting his own weapons with materials that had upped in price, which brought him to his current situation; not only penniless, but having provoked the wrong kind.

While his knee into the other’s face had backed the blond guy off, the one behind him bore down with the heavy weight of the sickle, trapping him to the owner of the sickle while another sprang in to show his appreciation. Balled up fist zoning in with reiatsu speed, Sousuke barely saw the incoming punch. 

He had closed his eyes, waiting on the impact that was sure to give him a black eye for the next few weeks.

The impact never came.

The sound of skin hitting skin did resound loudly. When he reopened his eyes, he was met with a palm just centimetres from his face. The incoming fist was prevented from punching into him by the arm that connected to...Ichigo.

Sousuke couldn’t exactly counter any reiatsu empowered obstacles, he couldn’t lie about that, but being shielded from harm and protected did impact his pride. 

The boy, young man now, had shorted hair, still vibrantly orange and that body had filled out nicely. A sleeveless kosode proudly displayed nice biceps that could only be obtained through years of training or in Ichigo’s case, fighting.

Skills meticulously honed as a substitute, the Rukon scum was no match for Soul Society’s greatest trump card. 

But Ichigo was no mere substitute anymore, judging by the insignia of the thirteenth division wrapped around Ichigo’s arm. It was something that blatantly attracted his attention.

As Ichigo dealt with his attackers, Sousuke voluntarily took a step aside, not only because he was practically useless in this state, but primarily because he would only be standing in Ichigo’s way.

His money was recovered in the blink of an eye, which Ichigo trusted unto his palm, he was then looked up and down, as if he was discerning if Sousuke had any injuries.

He hid his money quickly.

“I didn’t mean to belittle your pride-” Ichigo apologised somewhat brusquely while a hand nervously swept through that orange untamed nest.

“It’s quite alright.” he lied smoothly. “It is to be expected from our resident hero, is it not?”

His compliment deepened the slight blush that contrasted heavily with Ichigo’s hair. Ichigo’s hands then disappeared into his hakama, and knowing that the Shinigami pants lacked any pockets, Sousuke could safely say that those hands were practically feeling up a different package.

His presence into Inuzuri had surely corrupted his mind if that was his first thought...

“Karakura town is under jurisdiction of the 13th division, one doesn’t need to be an expert in orientation to find out that the Rukon district is located nowhere near the human world.” he said smartly.

Not only a conflict of interest to the thirteenth division, but also a useless resource of time to help a Rukon resident. And with that Rukon resident being him, Central would have a field day in berating their newest addition to the Gotei 13.

“I’m still allowed to stand and go wherever I want.” 

At least Ichigo hadn’t grown up as a mindless puppet of Soul Society. Sadly not as his own puppet either, although taking into account that the Hollowfication of Masaki was his work, Ichigo did somewhat belong to him.

And instead of the Gotei’s machine, Ichigo would benefit more kneaded by his hands personally.

The BloodBond had just acquired its irreplaceable member. 

And with Ichigo being easily amenable, that naivety could come in handy.

“Well, my...white knight,” the small grin on Ichigo’s face concealed by teeth that bit unto a bottom lip was somewhat adorable. “can I tempt you into going for a drink? As a way to show my appreciation?”

Ichigo’s gaze left his to look around them. “I’m actually still on duty...”

Far from his duty actually...

“Well, of course, I’m obviously in need of a hero here, so...” he motioned with his arm to encourage Ichigo along. 

“Fine,” was said with an exasperated sigh as if it was the biggest burden on the young man. “no alcohol though.”

He chuckled. “You’re the first Shinigami that minds that specifically.”

There was quite a distance between them as they set their course to the nearest bar, not that he could blame Ichigo. While their allied forces against Bach had seemingly buried any animosity between them, the fact that he had challenged Ichigo and put his precious friends into danger was surely still on that mind.

The bar they eventually ended up in was set up in a traditional style with low wooden tables and cushions on the floor.

Sousuke ordered a tea pot, meant to share with his companion, yet the young man still ordered his own flavoured water.

“Now you have to tell me why you have chosen to take permanent residence here.” he said.

Having grown up in the modern human world, it must be difficult to catapult oneself back in time. 

“Here being in Soul Society or in the Gotei 13?”

“Both.” 

“Simple, at the end of the war I had reached the age in human years where I would go off to college or uni. And while my grades were above average, it didn’t feel right to leave this world behind to concentrate on my entrance exams when I could be summoned at any given time. I would forever have to split my attention between this world and the human one. That would leave me with barely any chance to concentrate on other things...”

And what involved those other things? It wouldn’t do to pry into the young man’s life, but he needed to know where Ichigo exactly stood, relationship wise.

“Rukia’s recommendation as her vice-captain was the only encouragement I needed.”

When the tea pot arrived, Ichigo still curiously peeked inside. “Black tea?”

To which he urged Ichigo to take a sip from his cup. “Try it, before you judge.”

He couldn’t convince him any further, since Ichigo practically stuck his tongue out at the taste. “Bitter.” 

“You’re welcome to sweeten it.”

The young man shook his head with a grimace. 

He took his own sip, at exactly the same spot where Ichigo had nipped, which seemed to consume Ichigo as a whole, because his action was followed with big eyes. 

“...And you are only her vice-captain?”

Ichigo seemingly had to backtrack their conversation because he visibly saw the gears inside of the young man’s head turning with that confused look. “Of course, what else would I be?...” His knowing grin, changed Ichigo’s puzzlement into a frown. “We’re friends! Just friends, why would you think that-”

It was a blatant guess.

“Well, considering Kaien Shiba had fulfilled that position previously...” he hinted slightly.

Was Ichigo finally aware of belonging to the Shiba clan? Perfect chance to prod and possibly sow the seed of disappointment.

“There I go on a rant again...” Sousuke feigned an apologetic look. “...you of course are unaware of who Kaien is.”

“No, I know.” Ichigo nodded vigorously. “Him also supposedly being my distant relative or something like that...and yeah well, he and Rukia being close...or having been...” he trailed off awkwardly. “I’ve been teased relentlessly about that, by the way. But no, she’s just my friend, nothing more.”

“I see.” He would have otherwise gladly have been Ichigo’s source of knowledge. “So your father finally informed you.”

He was positively sure that Isshin’s secrecy was at least a great point of concern to Ichigo, he had expected discontent, something Sousuke would obviously nourish.

“I understand why he decided to keep it all a secret, the clan and my powers. He distanced himself from the Shiba clan voluntarily, so I guess he just wanted to live a normal life, and I can’t be angry about that.”

Anything but voluntarily, Isshin had been a little too thirsty to save Sousuke’s experiment from succeeding. At least it resulted in Ichigo being borne in the end...

Acceptance from Ichigo, was the least he expected though. 

What a loss of opportunity...yet, he smiled fondly at Ichigo’s own vibrant smile. 

“Well then, how does it feel knowing you’re basically nobility?”

“Meh.” Ichigo rolled his shoulders with a shrug. “Hasn’t the clan fallen from grace?”

A delight that Sousuke couldn’t hide with that friendly facade anymore. Is there anything supposedly sweeter than taking away a title that was undeserved? “Yes...”

Another shrug followed. “I don’t really care to be honest.”

Sadly Ichigo wasn’t even the slightest bit nosy and even changed the course of their conversation. He motioned wildly with his arms. “Are you living somewhere here? Did you escape from Hell?”

“Like you don’t already know...” Ichigo suddenly took a large gulp of his soda. “I am the gossip of the town, Kurosaki-san. But to satiate your curiosity, I’m on parol and currently living in Inuzuri.”

“It’s the first I hear about that...” Ichigo mumbled in such a see through lie that it was practically laughable. “At least you finally got some compensation for helping in the fight against Bach.”

“My release out of Hell can hardly be called compensation.”

“Because Kyouka Suigetsu is still locked up?” it was asked casually, as if Ichigo seemed kind of glad that his Zanpakuto was out of the picture. 

It had undoubtedly not only cost Sousuke a great deal of effort to defeat Ichigo, but he had made it the young man just as difficult. Who is to say what might have happened if Urahara hadn’t interfered?

He shook his head. “The conditions in the Rukongai are piteous to say the least.”

The resident hero didn’t seem so keen on furthering that conversation, because a glance at the clock and an excused, “I should be going now.” was just as pitiful. His flavoured water was then practically gulped down.

While Sousuke was busy looking for an excuse to see the other again. He couldn’t possibly let Ichigo ghost on him now, he wouldn’t find a more perfect specimen for his BloodBond after all. 

“Uh...yeah, Aizen, I’ll uh...see you around.” Ichigo left without him even having the chance to say anything in return.

But he let the opportunity pass by.

He couldn’t run after Ichigo, that would scare the young man away. No, he needed a more subtle approach with him. And with practically still a whole kettle of tea, he had some time to think.

\----

That Friday, Aizen hadn’t shown up.

Which should have honestly been a relief to Shinji and should have improved his performance, yet all it did was intensify the distraction. Because now he was constantly glancing over his shoulder to make sure the bastard hadn’t entered.

What was Aizen’s intention with that hide and seek anyways? Everything just had to be a mindfuck with him, didn’t it?

Worse was that he gained a new stalker, his edgy looking one nightstand didn’t seem to understand the definition of, one night, apparently, because he was most definitely part of the audience, front seat. Why did he have to attract the crazy ones... 

With Aizen taking the fucking crown, wouldn’t he be proud of that?

-0-

When Shunsui was about to use the shadowy duplicate key of Sousuke’s flat, he could just in time hear noise from within the flat. Dissolving the handy trinket, he knocked instead.

A good thing that Sousuke was home anyways, before he sobered up and lost the courage to suggest...

“Kyouraku-san...” Sousuke greeted in a bland tone and motioned with a nod to get inside.

No matter, that mood will turn around fast.

Taking a couple of steps inside, he voluntarily closed the door and stopped Sousuke from moving in the direction of the kitchenette.

“Don’t bother, I’m not staying. I’ve actually come to ask if you’ve found a job already?”

He didn’t need to ask, because nothing had been declared yet as far as he knew, but he wanted that verbal confirmation. Plus he just needed the topic to be brought up for...

Instead of a response, Sousuke’s dissatisfaction was practically palpable. “If that is why you’re here, you can leave already. With you walking in and out of my apartment, I possibly can’t have the time to look for a decent job. Aren’t you ashamed, Captain Commander to bother a busy citizen such as myself and keeping me from-”

Sousuke’s body was about to turn completely away from him, until he physically stopped the younger man. With a hand around Sousuke’s wrist, he tugged him a little closer.

“...Keep pushing me and in the end I’ll be forced to work the streets,” He let go of Sousuke’s wrist when the younger man’s palms took advantage of their proximity in an attempt to close his widely opened kosode. “you wouldn’t want me to go down that route, now wouldn’t you?” yet those fingers trailed through the hairs on his chest instead. 

Well...

“I wouldn’t want you to lose your innocence.” Shunsui teased back while capturing those digits and their naughty course. “No need to look any further either,” even though he had the greatest doubt that Sousuke had even done any effort regarding that. “you can work for me.”

The teasing mood vanished in an instant as Sousuke looked him in the eye. Those warm hands disappeared from their place on his chest as well, unfortunately. “I thought I was exempt from working in the Gotei again.”

“You won’t be working for the Gotei, you’ll be working for me, personally.” He had mulled over it for a long time, but the longer he thought about it, the lesser restrictions he personally had over his idea.

Sousuke’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t tell me I am to become your maid.”

That idea actually didn’t sound so bad either...but...

“Not really.”

“I’m out of guesses, just tell me.”

Gladly.

He couldn’t help the big wide grin as he announced, “I’ll pay you, solely to enjoy your company.”

Sousuke’s lips quirked up and while it could have been pure amusement at his suggestion, there was something sneaky about that grin. “Just my company? So I merely have to chatter your ears off and I’ll get paid while at it?”

A dream job for sure. But it included other services as well, in the Human World they called it a Sugar Daddy. Which would make Sousuke his Sugar Baby.

“Well, we’ll work out the countless of conditions in a contract if you will, but...” he licked his suddenly dry lips, perhaps he was sobering up too fast. “it doesn’t necessarily exclude sexual benefits, but it doesn’t have to be...” 

With the sexual implications in the contract being one of the main factors of offering up the partnership, Sousuke’s company in itself was a crucial, if not his initial intention.

Sousuke’s sneaky smile widened.

“And you’ll get financial benefits, but it doesn’t necessarily pertain to money alone, it could be clothes, food, whatever you need.”

“A glorified courtesan.” Sousuke concluded.

Hadn’t Sousuke been blatantly been coming on to him? 

“Well...” he crossed his arms and nodded in an indicative manner.

How could Sousuke possibly pass up on the chance to be worshipped and lavished with gifts. That holier than thou attitude practically melted at the thought no doubt.

“I’m at your service, Kyouraku-san.”

The dangerous flirtatious mood between the two of them had to have an outlet somewhere, and not being one to start a relationship casually, especially not after Ju-chan..., a business deal that could result in sex was the next best thing. 

“That is nice to hear.”

He gave a salute as his goodbye and completely ignored the almost devilish grin on Sousuke’s face. With no connections to his seals, Sousuke formed no danger to him whatsoever.


	7. Soiled Futon

** Chapter Seven: Soiled Futon **

When Sousuke heard a loud thunk outside of his door at around three o’clock in the morning, he thought it to be Kyouraku. Completely wasted at that hour, that loud fumbling in the hallway could only be caused by a drunken Captain Commander, who now probably came to seek his ‘services’.

Beyond irritated and ready to lay down some terms and conditions regarding his status as glorified courtesan, he peeked behind the door and snapped, “Kyouraku-sa-...”

No Kyouraku to be seen, in fact at first glance he was met by no one at all. Something heavy did seem to slouch against the door, so he opened the door just a tad bit more, and sleep vanished immediately when the blunt object turned out to be a body as soon as a hand fell with a thud on the ground into his vision. 

Did Liquidators have to specifically dump their bodies at his doorstep?

Opening the door completely to look at whatever was still attached to its owner, he startled at seeing that blue hair, now matted with a dark red liquid that could only be blood. Grimmjow’s seemingly lifeless body had sagged to the floor with no support at all anymore.

After looking into the hallway to make sure Grimmjow’s attacker wasn’t nearby, Sousuke got down on his haunches to put a palm directly in front of Grimmjow’s cracked lips. Being this close he could see that dark purple bruises littered his Espada’s face.

It might seem as if he was approaching a hurt wild animal, but Sousuke couldn’t rely on his senses now to feel any energy. But when he could barely feel any sort of puffs against his skin, he carefully laid two fingers in Grimmjow’s neck instead, just above his left collarbone, trying to feel any sort of pulse. Just a simple touch made him practically recoil at Grimmjow’s feverishly hot skin. 

At least he got a faint sign of Grimmjow’s life force, albeit a very irregular heart beat. 

Why did Grimmjow come to him anyways? He had no means to heal his Espada, not to mention even if he could use his reiatsu, what made Grimmjow think that he was up to giving Grimmjow a hand?

He then proceeded to inspect the wound on his head and he guessed that a sharp object had grazed just above Grimmjow’s ear, down to the back of his head. Just scarring the scalp, nothing damaging, hardly anything that could have knocked him out. 

Well, this was inconvenient...

He probably had to inspect a little further, which maybe shouldn’t be done in a barely lit hallway. Which was a whole other matter of troublesome. Grimmjow was heavier than he looked, Sousuke had to end up lifting that broad upper body to drag Grimmjow inside. 

Maybe it wasn’t smart to move Grimmjow now, but he had to make do with what he had at his disposal. Which wasn’t much, he didn’t even have a first aid kit lying around...

Though he abruptly stopped the dragging when it became clear that he was making a trail of blood along the tatami.

Good luck getting that blood scrubbed out...

He sighed at the sheer misery and brought his tatami over to the lump that was Grimmjow right now, before he pulled his Espada on top of it, on his side, so he could inspect where the blood came from.

Grimmjow had to have been viciously attacked from behind, because a large stab wound above and to the right of his Hollow Hole was visible through a hole of Grimmjow’s Samue top. The knife or dagger seemed to have dragged down or slashed in a half circular motion to Grimmjow’s Hollow Hole. Pulling the fabric up, made him notice the huge gash directly. 

Disinfecting the wound and wrapping it in some form was his first thought. The only alcohol he had in house though was Kyouraku’s Cognac, which would maybe even slow down any healing process.

But he did not have much of a choice here.

After washing his hands and grabbing Kyouraku’s precious booze, a towel, plus a knife, he returned at Grimmjow’s side. He then cut off Grimmjow’s top, since he was not in possession of scissors either, -it actually made him aware of all the objects he was in dire need of apparently.

Not that he was planning on helping anymore strays... As for his own, why would Sousuke need any first aid when he was practically untouchable? 

Before he decided on cleaning the wound, getting Grimmjow out of his hakama might make him wiser on any other wounds. The act itself in removing that article of clothing turned out harder when Grimmjow wasn’t cooperating, and on top of that, he needed to prevent from moving Grimmjow too much, since the bleeding hadn’t stopped yet.

Staunching the blood flow might perhaps be a better idea, then again, he wasn’t exactly a human healer...

It was a very peculiar situation anyhow and something he hadn’t exactly waited on either. Maybe a drunk Kyouraku at his doorstep would have been better...

Although coming to the conclusion that Grimmjow wasn’t wearing any underwear was...fascinating. But besides a muscled ass, he refrained from peeking over Grimmjow’s side to check the rest. The occasional bruise below on the back of those legs probably mirrored the front.

The wound! acquired his attention now.

Without soaking the wound, he dribbled some of the alcohol into it, which got him surprised by a sudden fist that punched his helping hand away and successfully pushed him from his haunches unto the floor. The growled, “Fuck!...” was heavily interrupted by a throaty coughing fit. He futilely tried to stop his Espada’s attempts to get up, but had to evade another wild punch in his direction.

When Grimmjow then basically stumbled unto his back, another coughing fit shook his Espada’s entire body, whom seemed battling the dilemma in which way he needed to turn in order to lessen any pain.

For a second Sousuke didn’t know what to say. The only sound going through his studio flat was the haggard and ragged breathing of Grimmjow.

“Did you have a run in with Kurosaki-san?”

What else would get his Espada so hyped and butchered up...

“The...fuck...ar” Grimmjow barley glanced his way, he seemed to have difficulty opening one eye that had been glued shut, with a fist perhaps, since his half opened left eye was bloodshot and the area around it was covered in a dark purple bluish bruise. “....doing here?!” he wheezed out, the sound of another coughing fit had Grimmjow practically choking on something fluidly.

The rhetorical question though, along with that cursing...was mildly getting on Sousuke’s last nerve.

“You crawled to my door, Grimmjow. I assume, you can imagine where you are right now.”

Grimmjow patted fleetingly along his ribs, “Fucker...broke my ribs...”

That would explain the wheezing and Grimmjow’s clear difficulty with breathing... Not that Sousuke could do anything about that, the wound in the back on the other hand... Which would probably be soaking blood into his futon by now...

“Grimmjow, you need to turn.” he tried to urge his Espada with an encouraging push at his Espada’s thick bicep, yet, it got him the same reaction of a fist practically smacking his incoming hand away. Where did Grimmjow even find the energy to fend him off?

Actually paying attention to that naked wrist made him notice the metal cuff, which seemed present on his other wrist as well. Grimmjow’s reiatsu was locked? That would explain why the wound wasn’t even partially healing. Granted Grimmjow’s self replenishment had its limits, but it should have been doing something... 

“Can you take a deep breath?”

“Does it... fucking...look like I ca-” Why Grimmjow necessarily had to work himself up to such a simple question was beyond Sousuke. 

Despite Grimmjow’s poor cooperation, he did see Grimmjow struggling, in the midst of coughing, to take a deep breath.

Without touching, Sousuke then carefully had his palm hovering well above Grimmjow’s torso, while explicitly asking him, “Your ribs could be fractured, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re broken.” At Grimmjow’s disbelieving grimace, he assured, “It hurts just as much. Can you tell me where exactly it hurts-” 

“To Hell...with your...million questions-...” the wet coughing sound returned, in fact the coughing fit had Grimmjow turning in on himself, holding his abdomen. Grimmjow’s back was now turned to him.

Even if Grimmjow’s reflexes betrayed otherwise, leaving one’s back unguarded was a form of foolish trust in him? Especially seeing as his Espada derived from the Hollow species.

The gash had soaked up his futon indeed and it was still bleeding...

“Grimmjow, I’m going to try and stop the blood flow.” he took the towel in his hand and brought it closer to his Espada’s back, not yet coming in direct contact. “I’m going to have to push a towel against the area of the wound,” no answer except that wheezing. “alright?”

Well...he had warned Grimmjow.

He pushed the folded towel against the large gash, putting slight pressure in order to try and stop the blood flow. He couldn’t add a gentle touch, that wouldn’t form a blood cloth. 

Yet like his previous aid, that hard handed manner wasn’t appreciated by Grimmjow either, who let out a sound similar to a howl of pain. Grimmjow’s palm then clamped down on his wrist, preventing him from putting pressure with the towel. His Espada’s other hand had fisted the futon which also partially had to function as a mouth piece, since he seemed to be biting his hand to keep quiet, yet the growled groans still escaped. And Grimmjow’s entire body seemed to be shivering. 

When Sousuke heard a drizzling sound, he tried to locate where it could be coming from, but as soon as he peeked over Grimmjow’s side, he wished he hadn’t...

No... Did Grimmjow seriously just urinate on this futon? Granted it was a bodily function, one that in Grimmjow’s high feverish state, coupled with the intensive injuries, could occur. But, did he have no control whatsoever over his body?! 

A dent in Grimmjow’s dignity or not, the penetrating smell of urine and his soaked -only!- futon made him swat at Grimmjow’s back in sheer annoyance.

Yet that made Grimmjow practically yowl and spasm in pain. “I could f..fucking break your neck for that stunt... if I wasn’t fucking dying here!” Grimmjow’s hand then awkwardly felt around at his back, coming in contact with the wound again.

Well...the feelings were mutual.

He irritably dragged Grimmjow’s dirty palm away.

“You’ll risk an infection if you touch it with your...”...paws. He was annoyed, beyond annoyed. He hadn’t asked for Grimmjow to come to him, least of all to be saddled up with...that.

Grimmjow then futilely tried to avoid lying in his own urine which made Sousuke reluctantly get up to grab another towel. That moving wasn’t doing any good for that wound... 

But, Grimmjow could dab the...liquid away on his own!

Yet, coming around to Grimmjow’s front had him seeing a couple of dark specks in the small puddle. Wait a second, Grimmjow had certain functioning organs inside of his body, and judging by the area where Grimmjow was stabbed...

“Grimmjow, you might have a punctured kidney...”

When he received no sound except fervent shivering, he positioned himself again at Grimmjow’s back. “I’m going to put some pressure on it.” he stated and resolutely pushed the towel back against the wound, with or without Grimmjow’s cooperation. And with or without Grimmjow’s pained spasms and groans. 

Timing the minutes that he tried to staunch the bleeding made him all the more annoyed at the fact that it wouldn’t stop bleeding...

Well, so far his help...

“Grimmjow, you’re going to have to go to the 4th division.” this was beyond his control, Grimmjow needed medical attention. “Grimmjow?” He peeked at Grimmjow’s front, yet he didn’t seem to be moving at all anymore. Those eyelids still moved rapidly and feeling for a pulse got him the same erratic disorientated beating of his heart. Grimmjow’s reiatsu likely was going haywire as well, and locked up as it was, his Espada needed medical attention, and fast. 

Which was the next problem, he couldn’t flash step, neither could Grimmjow and located in district 78, it would take hours before he reached the Seireitei. Meaning he had to go in search of any available Shinigami in Inuzuri, and hope that they would be willing to listen to him...

If only he still had Kyouka Suigetsu in such instances...

“Grimmjow...I’ll be right back.” he attested lightly to his unconscious Espada.

It probably would count as a violation of his prerequisites regarding his parole if a dead Grimmjow was found in his flat. And he wasn’t exactly looking forward to return to Hell.

Finding a Shinigami in Inuzuri wasn’t difficult, locating a Shinigami who was on duty though, that was a different matter. With all the brothels in the neighbourhood, and being that he was Aizen Sousuke, would have many reluctant in abiding to his request.

Luckily he still had his commission from Seijo at hand, persuasion worked on any naive Soul. 

The first Shinigami in uniform he encountered seemed to be talking up one of the sex workers, of course, but that didn’t stop Sousuke from joining the conversation and demanding the guy, “Could you go and get me Urahara Kisuke, it’s an emergency.”

The non-seated officer, presumably from the ninth division, judging by the short sleeves, looked him specifically up and down with a frown. 

“Look, I’ll even pay you a full night with this...” he motioned at the woman whom was dressed in a very short kimono. The scantily manner in which the cloth revealed both of her shoulders, and quite a lot of her bosom as well, had him looking twice to make sure it was the traditional clothing style in the first place. “...lovely lass.”

When the guy seemed to hesitate, even after the hooker’s, “I’ll make it worth your while.” Sousuke explicitly took out his stack of money to prove that he would keep up his end of the bargain. The guy then tried to take the cash from him, yet Sousuke hid it away just as fast. “First, you’re going to get me Urahara Kisuke.” 

Urahara could likely stabilise Grimmjow enough to transport him to the fourth. Asking for anyone else would raise suspicion, Sousuke realised just fine the kind of apprehension he awakened in most Gotei soldiers. Even those in the fourth division, or actually since his false dead body, the fourth wasn’t keen on him at all.

The Gotei soldier in front of him checked out his prize for the night, contemplating the options, while the sex worker seemed to encourage the guy with a few whispers, hungry for the wad of cash. It properly changed the guy’s mind, anyways, since he afterwards Flash-Stepped away. 

While waiting, under the lit lanterns, Sousuke felt a hand creeping up his shoulder. “You can always join us if you want.” she tried in a seductive voice.

He shrugged off her hand and denied the suggestion with a brass, “No thank you, he’s not my type.” He glanced at her reaction next.

She seemed slightly offended that he hadn’t mentioned anything about her specifically. “You can already give **me** the money.”

The seductive tone had vanished quickly. Well, he looked up at the nameplate of the establishment they stood in front of, ‘Red’s Delight’...

“Your sort of woman is unreliable.” he kept his money safely in his pocket.

She scoffed blatantly at his remark and took a couple of steps away from him. 

It might work on naive men, but not on him. He rarely indulged in those fleeting ‘delights’ unless it got him something in return. The BloodBond of course required him to put out, as they say. And most men, especially Shinji and Kyouraku, craved sex.

The best way to get into a man’s heart with other words.

Urahara arrived first, another one of those easily seduced men, since the blond’s gaze went to the sex worker immediately. Glad in a green and grey striped jinbei, Urahara gestured at his wrist while his head was still turned to the woman. “Do you know what hour it is, Aizen, what could possibly be your emergency?”

He took Urahara by the wrist and stepped even further away from the hooker. It earned him Urahara’s attention instantly, along with Urahara pulling his wrist back in an almost indignant manner. 

“I can’t really count on anyone else’s help right now, but with your somewhat...medical expertise, he’ll get a lot further.”

Urahara cocked his head in a confused manner, before looking around as if he was excepting someone to be lying around on the ground somewhere. 

The Gotei member then came Flash-Stepping back and quite frankly demanded his share for the night. And while Sousuke tried to make it inconspicuous, Urahara had undoubtedly witnessed the exchange of cash. 

But before Urahara could even make a comment about him being in possession of any cash, Sousuke tugged at Urahara’s wrist. “I told you it was an emergency.”

\----

Even though it was somewhat easier to call Urahara over in comparison to anyone of the fourth, it didn’t make Urahara any less distrustful of him. The fact that the blond rather walked behind him instead of next to him made that clear overall.

It only worsened when he lead Urahara to his home, and when he opened his door and Grimmjow could be seen lying on his futon, he was probably already accused of a crime in the other’s mind. “Aizen-”

Best to interrupt that. “I know how this might look, but would I honestly ask you to come over if I had attacked Grimmjow myself?” 

“You wouldn’t dare?”

“I would,” he agreed lightly. “but that’s beside the point.” he gestured at his Espada’s still form.

“Well...knowing that, and the fact that according to you,” Kisuke scratched his head, rearranging the chin length blond hair in a disarrayed mess. At least he wasn’t wearing that ugly hat. “I mostly work with non living test-subjects...you would think of me?...” he put his hand on his heart and grinned wildly.

“Be flattered I thought about your genius mind, now if you’d...please.” that was as much praise that he was willing to give.

It seemed enough to Urahara, who first washed his hands before finally approaching Grimmjow. Sitting down in Seiza position, Urahara let his palm glow with green reiatsu to inspect his Espada’s torso. “His heartbeat is going too fast, I don’t have the reiatsu measurement contraption with me, but I’m guessing it’s fluctuating wildly.” 

He stood off to the side as he watched Urahara sitting in seiza position next to Grimmjow, diagnosing with each movement of his palm over Grimmjow. 

“It seems like his right lung has collapsed, I can’t treat a large pneumothorax solely with reiatsu. I can’t drain the air, nor inflate the lung, that’s something for the 4th division.” Urahara’s palm reached the lower part of Grimmjow’s ribcage and the blond grimaced lightly, then shuffled over to the back. The huge gash made Urahara give out a, “Uhuh, that explains it. You didn’t attempt to stop the bleeding?”

The insinuative tone that implied that he was incompetent made Sousuke slightly regret his choice of...aid. “I couldn’t stop the bleeding.” 

Urahara barely responded to his statement, he just kept murmuring to himself. “I found the broken ribs; the fourth and fifth one punctured the lung,” the green illuminating glow increased for a split second. “the ribs are back in place though, there’s that.” Urahara’s hand lowered.

Without being able to be of much help, Sousuke crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. 

“I can heal the superficial muscle tissues that have been torn, but any deeper requires surgery. I’m going to put pressure on it with a film of reiatsu bandaging, so the fourth division can get to work instantly. Grimmjow did get lucky though that it was his right side, whatever stabbed him went deep.” 

“What about the punctured kidney?” he interrupted, he was pretty sure about his analysis on that.

“Ruptured kidney actually,” Urahara corrected. “the weapon punctured near the bottom.” Urahara’s palm seemingly followed the exact area. “and then was torn down, luckily not as deep, because I wouldn’t have been able to reach the thorn nerves. And seeing as the gash ends at his Hollow Hole, his attackers likely didn’t know about his anatomy, do you know who could have attacked him?” 

He shook his head at Urahara’s ramblings. 

Urahara then looked up at him, staring for a fraction longer to discern if he was telling the truth. “Well...I’m going to have to move Grimmjow to the fourth anyways. I can’t preform surgery here and I rather leave the stitching of the kidney up to the real professionals.” Grimmjow was then carefully lifted up bridal style. “Do you want to come along?”

Why would he? Grimmjow had been enough of a burden. “I’m not Grimmjow’s babysitter.”

“...Aha...” Urahara hesitated, seemingly about to say something else, before he shook his head and Shunpo’d out of the door.

He looked at his soiled mattress, then bunched up his futon and threw it away. It seemed as if he was going to have to resort to sleeping on the floor tonight. 

-0-

“We’re not going to spend our Saturday cooped up inside, Sousuke.” Shunsui stated to which Sousuke then proceeded to lock up the apartment, but not before he gave Shunsui an appreciative once over.

That was the benefit of the contract in the first place; he didn’t have to drag an unwilling Byakuya with him. He didn’t have to bother anyone when he paid someone to come along.

Plus, Sousuke was actually interesting company.

“Is that why you did your best to dress up?”

The lavender kosode made him seem tan, or so Ju-chan had complimented him once. The dark purple hakama had been part of the set, so it wasn’t like he had to purposely match his outfit.

“I’m a little underdressed next to you now.”

“In that case,” he let his hand just barely brush Sousuke’s kimono sleeves, the fabric was rather coarse to the touch, something he had noticed the last time he got the chance to get a cop of feel. “let’s get you out of these rags.”

“Wouldn’t that be considered inappropriate?” While Shunsui held open the door to exit the building, Sousuke palmed his obi explicitly. “You can get me out of my clothes at my home as well...”

He responded by patting the small of Sousuke’s back in the urge to get him moving. Even though his hand was intentionally meant to brush passed Sousuke’s ass, the younger male was actually a tad bit too fast for his hand to land on any inappropriate part.

“Afterwards, we’ll stop somewhere to eat, the best timing to set up the contract.”

Aizen’s lips quirked up in answer.

If only there was an easier way to tell the difference in those smiles of his...

He lead Sousuke to a market, a couple of districts further from Inuzuri in the hope that the quality would be visibly better. Yet he had doubts when he came upon a stall that supposedly held, ‘Authentic silks.’ The kimono were a little too shiny at all angles.

And while Sousuke had stopped at a few stalls that had held basic hakama and Kosode, Shunsui still deliberately declined Sousuke’s request with a little white lie. Easy access and the occasional glimpse of naked skin made him prefer the traditional robes on his companion. Why yes, his choice was pure self-indulgence. Considering he paid, well, it was pretty much his privilege. 

“You know I’m a man of tradition, Sousuke.”

Sousuke’s expression kind of betrayed that his unintentional deception wasn’t really that believable.

“That is why you smuggle so much from the human world into the Seireitei.” Sousuke remarked while going straight for a dark blue kimono.

Did it have to be so dark? If only there was... The left side of the stall held a variety of flamboyant patterns and colours. Which so happened to be female kimono. Ah well, those were clothes, they didn’t have a gender. 

“Kyouraku-san,” Sousuke motioned him over.

Shunsui merely glanced over but remained standing at his own side. “Rather bland in style.” he muttered, while he caressed a few of the silk robes he preferred instead. It was difficult to discern if it was real silk though, just by touch. 

“You know that these are meant for females.”

He picked out a lavender one. “Ah? I didn’t know that there was a rule for that... Mr I like to break rules, mhh?” he indicated with a nod at the one that had come to stand next to him. The subtle darker pattern of flowers on the kimono in his hands was inspected with a raised eyebrow.

“If I’m running around in these, Inuzuri residents or visitors...will likely think I had a sex change...”

He chuckled at the thought. Female Sousuke? He couldn’t exactly decide if that would have been even more dangerous to the male populace. “It’s possible in the Human World.”

“But not in Soul Society.” the robes were taken out of his hands and put back. “Besides, I’m quite content living as a man.”

“So am I.” he murmured appreciatively, watching that behind, as Sousuke walked back to the ‘male’ section. Sadly kimono weren’t exactly fitting. At least not those in the Rukon district...

He grabbed the lavender kimono again, it matched his own current outfit after all, and draped it over his arm as he finally joined his companion at his desired style. 

“Why only solid colours?” The ones Sousuke had picked out were nothing special; completely black, grey and blue. The, shine, was also less present on the ensembles for men. 

“I don’t have that many festivals or performances to attend, unlike you, Captain Commander. I rather not stand out too much.”

Really? He thought the narcissist in Sousuke craved just that...

When Sousuke began picking obi for his chosen robes, he sidled up next to the younger male and motioned with the lavender one. “Which obi do you prefer with this?”

The clothes were given a suspicious glance. “Are you going to wear that, Kyouraku-san?”

“It’s for you.” he attested with a big smile and held a part of the fabric close to Sousuke’s cheek. “It compliments his skin tone, doesn’t it?” he encouraged the merchant, who possibly couldn’t resist his claim. “Plus you will match me.” he gestured at himself.

“Couple’s clothes? This is becoming increasingly more like a date.”

No. He was just solely enjoying Sousuke’s company. And the fact that it wasn’t done on a futon necessarily, didn’t mean that they were now on a date.

Besides, spending money was the intention of a Sugar Daddy.

“Since I know you won’t give up, I allow you that pleasure, but I’m only going to wear it on occasions such as today.” Sousuke’s palm indecisively switched from a dark purple to a mauve belt, only to decide on the dark purple one in the end. Just so it had some sort of masculine quality...

Purple wasn’t exactly a colour found in the clothes on the right side, but he wasn’t going to argue for fear of influencing Sousuke in the wrong sense.

“Of course, I’m not buying it for someone else’s viewing pleasure after all.”

All that was left then, was to fit it.

Which was also more of a self-indulgence than anything else, since the kimono sold in the Rukongai were one size fits all, yet...he had to get a chance to get his companion in his desired outfit.

Though he wasn’t bemoaning the fact that he would be getting a personal peep show as well.

“There is no mirror here.”

Shunsui slightly forced Sousuke to take a step back, further into the fitting room, so he could draw the curtain back to shield them from the merchant’s eyes. “I’ll be your mirror, I’ll tell you, you look beautiful.”

“Such...charming phrases won’t flatter me.” Sousuke remarked while he fiddled with the obi.

His eye followed Sousuke’s fiddling fingers. “Are you sure?”

They would undoubtedly stroke Sousuke’s ego though. 

Without receiving an answer, Shunsui took another step closer so he could help Sousuke untie that obi. Sousuke’s gaze fell down to his eager hands, while Sousuke’s hands were suddenly idle, yet with enough room so Shunsui was able to reach around, loosening the belt in the back. 

And when he reached over...

“You smell good, Kyouraku-san, a scent that you smuggled from the Human World?”

He could feel the warm puffs of Sousuke’s breath against his neck.

“No, cologne actually. It has become popular in the Seireitei, sold in barbershops...”

With the obi gone, the ratchet kimono that Sousuke was wearing fell undone. Shunsui’s eye automatically feasted on the reveal of that naked skin. The loss of muscle still seemed somehow foreign, because Sousuke at the prime of his reign had shown off a trained body. Muken or Hell had most definitely had an effect.

“So you had a clean shave?” the stubble on his chin was briefly caressed by the back of Sousuke’s palm. “I can’t really tell, nor feel.”

“Two days ago, I have thick coarse hair so,...” the clean shaven result won’t last that long.

“Fascinating.”

With Sousuke’s attention invested on his beard, Shunsui urged the old kimono from Sousuke’s shoulders, which he only succeeded in when Sousuke stopped his inspection and lowered his hands. 

Completely naked, bare his fundoshi, Sousuke’s gaze still hadn’t reconnected with his.

Grabbing Sousuke’s chin within a couple of fingers, he encouraged the other to look him in the eye.

Was that...”Some slight hesitation?”...in those eyes?

Peculiar to see that in such a confident being.

“Well... I’m naked,” Sousuke then looked resolutely into his eye. “you’re...not.”

It seemed like it was okay to admire Sousuke’s...form whenever he ‘allowed’ it or more like whenever Sousuke thought to get him somewhere...

When not planned out, there seemed to be a slight hesitancy in the younger male.

Shunsui then decided to present the lavender kimono so Sousuke just had to turn around in order for Shunsui to slide it on those bony shoulders. 

Sousuke stared just a tad bit longer into his eyes, now twinkling with a vicious gleam. Well, he had promised to get Sousuke in that kimono... “Mhm...” came the knowing murmur to which Sousuke finally complied and presented his back. 

He slid the robes smoothly over Sousuke’s shoulders and waited until his younger companion had turned to face him again, before he adjusted the lapels of the kimono. Well, he had to agree with Jushiro, lavender made one’s complexion seem somewhat sun kissed. And whether Sousuke thought the clothes to be solely for women or not, that returning proud posture only complimented the outfit overall.

Finished off with the obi, which Shunsui fastened in order to have that chance to reach around Sousuke again, the look was completed. 

“You look lovely.” The praise made a slight pinkish hue appear on Sousuke’s cheeks, yet with the colour of the kimono, it was hard to discern if it was merely the result of the garments itself. “We’ll take it.” he responded in Sousuke’s place and drew the curtain.

“What about the rest of the-”

Even though he wouldn’t mind seeing Sousuke get undressed with each cloth, the result would be kind of the same, considering the one size fits all. When he stated his reason while paying, Sousuke’s knowing smirk made his clever plan, well not that clever.

Sousuke could have easily changed back into something else, but besides a shake of the head, Sousuke allowed his pleasure.

They then continued their stroll through the market.

“Is there anything else you need?” Their brightly coloured clothes made them stick out like a sore thumb between the mass of dark and brown colours. 

“A futon actually.”

He raised a brow, waiting on an answer, but it never came. Well... he scratched his beard and glanced around on the look out for any futon stalls, but besides vegetables, fruit, readymade food, clothes and jewellery, none of the stalls seemed to sell any mattresses.

“Don’t you have one already?” He could have sworn he had seen a folded mattress when he had been going through Sousuke’s build-in closets.

“It’s been...Something happened with it, maybe I’ll tell you later when I’ve overcome the trauma myself.”

Okay... He glanced at his companion, who resolutely avoided looking back and seemed to be stopping at stalls that sold some form of fabric. 

“I can bring you one from the Seireitei, next time.” he attested when another fruitless search at one of the stalls left them with no hope on finding any futon. “Thicker, softer and no doubt better quality.”

Sousuke seemed to trust his judgement since they rejoined the stream of people in the middle of the path instead of shuffling from one stall to the other. Until something caught Sousuke’s eye. “Oh I also need a dark, preferably black, coat.”

Dark again. He asked for its use, not because he had the money in his pocket, but because he was naturally curious. “You’re not planning on hiding the gorgeous kimono I bought you, mhh?” 

A chuckle followed as Sousuke was going through the hooded clothes. “It’s to shield from the rain, Kyouraku-san.”

“An actual umbrella would be convenient then, also a lot more flattering.”

But he guessed he had steered Sousuke’s choices enough, because he did end up buying the coarse cloak that would probably soak up the rain instead of protecting his companion from becoming wet.

Anyways, it was time to get some refreshments and drinks.

\----

When Sousuke was about to sit opposite him, Shunsui meant to tug on the younger male’s hip to get him seated next to him instead, yet pulling on the fabric of the kimono, revealed Sousuke’s left leg almost completely for a split second.

“Eager are we? Flash everyone why don’t you.” Sousuke slid in beside him, but not before glancing at their neighbouring diners to make sure that nobody had noticed. 

It had its advantages to dine in a bistro in the Rukongai; the company of Aizen Sousuke wasn’t head news. The leg had attracted attention with the turn of a head or two, but Sousuke’s presence itself wasn't the cause of that, which was in Shunsui’s opinion a relief. 

His choice of dinner partner wouldn't have been wildly accepted in the Seireitei itself.

And all in all, he had had good intentions anyways. With Sousuke seated next to him, they could both go over the contract easier. It would give Sousuke the sense that he was able to set down the rules just as much, without giving Shunsui solely all authority over the terms and agreements. It was a consensual contract after all.

“I’ll order a bottle of sake, do you got a preference for a particular kind?”

“Does it have to involve liquor?”

“Considering the kind of contract that we’re setting up...”

“Exactly, better stay sober.” Sousuke took the menu out of his hands and called the waiter over to order them a can of tea.

Perhaps that should be one of the first rules, just for himself; don’t give Sousuke too much control. 

So before the waiter could even turn around to get their orders, Shunsui reached over to tap her just above her waist. Sousuke had tried in vain to push his invading arm back. “Sweetheart, you can bring me a bottle of your finest sake as well.”

It was the weekend, no one was going to take away his liquor.

“Who’s going to drink all that?”

“Do we know each other?” he questioned amusedly back while he reached into his kosode to take out the rolled up parchment that would form their contract soon, a calligraphy ink brush and a small ink pot. He had written down the basics already; their personal details such as name and address. 

Sousuke immediately set out to read what was already written down, and when he was done, he wet the tip of the brush with his tongue, before dipping it in the ink, waiting. 

“Financial benefits aren’t always standardly cash,” he had suggested the form of payments yesterday briefly, but it wouldn’t hurt to go over it again. “just like today; I bought you clothes and food.”

It seemed like he was going to dictate and Sousuke was scribbling it all neatly down. The calligraphy instructor inside of Sousuke expressed itself with swirly and elegant kanji characters, it was practically art.

Sousuke would have made an excellent secretary, if he weren’t exempt from any work in the Gotei. Plus the Sugar Daddy contract sounded better, if not the most fun approach in employing Sousuke. 

The waiter bringing their drinks interrupted any further discussions for a second.

“Speaking of cash, how much do you think I’m worth, Kyouraku-san?”

He glanced at that sneaky smile at the corners of Sousuke’s lips, that slightly cocked head and the twinkle of those eyes were waiting on some sort of validation.

It was difficult to put a number on a person though...

“How much do you think you’re worth, Sousuke?”

That sneaky smile brightened. “You should have known, Kyouraku-san, I’m rare, precious, simply invaluable.”

“Ah of course.” how could he have forgotten the kind of image Sousuke had of himself. “Even with you being practically priceless, I’ll give you around 35,000 yen an hour to solely enjoy your company and 50,000 yen an hour if it includes sex.

Sousuke contemplated his suggestion before writing it down, seemingly in agreement. “And for a whole night?”

A whole night?... The contract would have them spending a couple of hours together, two, maybe three at most? If they went out, it could overrun to some extent, but then Sousuke’s rewards would mostly include something other than financial benefits.

But a whole night? That was maybe too personal, he wanted them to become familiar with each other, to some extent, but at a certain distance...

“I think it’s best if we leave that amount up to discussion, should it occur.” which it probably wouldn’t. “Oh by the way, before we go any further, regarding sex, I hope you prefer to be on the receiving end.”

Sousuke chuckled. “Actually, I’m versatile.”

Shunsui took a pause in drinking his cup, though the slight burn he felt wasn’t primarily caused by his brandy.

“Don’t worry, Kyouraku-san, that was a joke. Why yes, I do love to bottom, there is no shame in me admitting that.”

“Good, you don’t need to be ashamed of your preference.” he responded after another sip. 

“Something I specifically like to add in the contract, Kyouraku-san, is exclusivity.” he gestured for Sousuke to continue, even though he wasn’t so sure of the implication it was hinting at. “With the contract also involving sex, I don’t want you to visit any brothels anymore. You can enjoy me anytime you want, but, I don’t want you to pay for any other services with someone else.”

Mhh... So it was indeed insinuating some form of loyalty. He couldn’t say he was a fan of that suggestion, that exclusivity had the potential danger of becoming a little too intimate and that was something he wanted to avoid.

Although he had great doubts that he would ever love again, after Jushiro.

But in the odd chance that it could happen... “You can write that down,” he agreed with an indecisive shrug of the head. “but, when feelings interfere, we have the option to end the contract, there should be a way out.” 

Sousuke was still in the midst of writing, when he looked up at him. “Feelings for...each other?...”

“Or whenever we met someone else.” He wasn’t allowed to visit the pleasure district anymore for sex, not that that had been his sole intention to those visits in the first place, but he could still meet someone in the Seireitei itself.

It was a contract, Shunsui wasn’t going in this with the idea of getting to know Sousuke in a romantic sense. It was supposed to be pure business in the form of a good time, simple.

“Alright.” Sousuke agreed easily.

Considering the manner in which Sousuke had interacted with Gin, the concept of the contract shouldn’t exactly be foreign to Sousuke anyways. 

“Now about the sex-”

Probably his most anticipated topic for the contract, yet he interrupted Sousuke to tell him, “To add to the exclusivity, this...” he gestured at the parchment and between them. “...is a private affair between us, meaning you won’t tell anyone, especially no Gotei member that this exists.”

Maybe an actual relationship with Sousuke would have been a lot more shocking to Central, and to the Noble Council, but having Sousuke as his...courtesan, would likely still worry most members. Sousuke’s influence was a grounded fear to the Law of Soul Society.

“Was there not an insistent need for me to be employed?” 

“You’re my private escort, basically the contract, excluding sex, and a lower pay check.” he winked and took out his pipe to start filling it with some tobacco. “And I can justify that sort of association between us in the guise of keeping an eye on you.” 

Sousuke watched his motions captivatingly. “An escort that will show you around in the Rukongai?” he said with great disbelief. 

Shunsui shrugged. “Basically, yeah.”

As long as Central was convinced that he wasn’t becoming too close, everything would be fine.

He leaned into Sousuke to murmur, “Now on to the good stuff.” before he sat back again to light his pipe, and take a long first drag. “Is there anything that you’re aversive to when it comes to sex?”

“Nothing involving urine or defecation, that’s for sure.”

He hadn’t counted on something like that coming to Sousuke’s mind in the first place. But to have it said in such a resolute tone... So during his puff, the sudden laughing fit that had been evoked by Sousuke’s statement, had him practically choking on his smoke. “Seems like you had experience in that.” he said with a wiggle of his brows. 

The almost lethal glare he was given and an offhanded wave, had him chuckling again.

“Too bad though...” he said amusingly. “...and here I was hoping you would like it messy.”

Yet, Sousuke didn’t find it too funny. “Kyouraku-san, I’m going to leave you at this table and you can forget the contract if you think this is a joke.”

“Alright, alright.” he put an arm around Sousuke’s shoulder, preventing him from leaving. “That’s a no go, for me as well, don’t worry.” he reassuringly squeezed Sousuke’s rather tense shoulder, before taking his arm back. “Anything else?”

“I can’t really come up with something else...but since you’re asking, are there certain preferences of yours that are out of the norm?”

Well...it might be considered out of the norm. “Are you okay with bondage? I know as a Shinigami, having your movement restricted, might be a little triggering, so...” he took another sip of his brandy. “Oh, and you can chose your safe-word.” 

“No,” Sousuke hid away a yawn behind his palm. “I’m fine with that,”

“Uh oh, do I bore you already, Sousuke?”

“No, it was a particular...long night.”

Aha...extracurricular activities perhaps? Did he need to send some of his subordinates again to check up on what Sousuke was doing during the night?

“Anyways, I do not need a safe-word.”

“I would prefer it if you would choose one anyways, in fact you can chose two, one that indicates whatever happened can be open to discussion and the other one where it’s a basic stop word, and it won’t happen again.”

Sousuke suddenly looked him directly into his eye. “Why are you so set on a safe-word, you don’t trust me, or you don’t trust yourself?”

He took another puff of his pipe while he was trying to discern why Sousuke felt the need in questioning him on that. The off chance that he or Sousuke would be too deep into their ‘play’ could potentially take things a little too far, yeah, it was a possibility. The safe-word could prevent that. “Just to be on the safe side.”... simple as that.

Curiosity sated, Sousuke hummed lightly while pouring himself another cup of tea, in the midst of pouring though, he stopped and said, “Shatter.”

At the utterance of Kyouka Suigetsu’s Shikai release, Shunsui would lie if that hadn’t made him anxiously look around them to make sure that this was all still reality.

But Sousuke started pouring some more tea, “That will be my stop word.” before he glanced over. “I’m sure hearing me say that word will get the deed done.”

No kidding, well, that would indeed instil instant fear on himself. Kyouka Suigetsu was locked up, of course, but after all the misery Sousuke’s zanpakuto caused, just the simple thought of any hypnosis could still evoke fear into anyone’s mind.

“Yeah...” it was however no doubt something he would remember.

“As for when something happened that’s negotiable; flower.”

Flower? Interesting. It was definitely something that wasn't uttered casually during sex. “Alright.”

Well, that concluded their contract. “Let’s order some dinner now, we can always add something if we come up with anything else later.” 

\----

Standing at the door of Sousuke’s studio, Shunsui’s companion leaned against it, keys in hand, but not yet doing any effort to unlock it.

Shunsui put the bag of clothes he had bought next to Sousuke on the ground.

Well...he had done his duty, he had lead Sousuke back home, some sort of deep rooted chivalry, and something he would not only do on dates.

“I guess this is the part where I ask you to come in.” the turn in the lock sounded loudly.

Meant as an innuendo or not, Shunsui didn’t particularly feel in the mood for anything tonight. Sousuke was attractive enough and with the right touches that mood could be erected just fine, but as he had said before, the contract wasn’t solely a simple measure to get off. 

He therefore put a hand on Sousuke’s palm, stalling any further action. “Some other time, maybe.” he winked as a quick salute and was prepared to go on his way.

Yet the call of, “Not even a kiss, Kyouraku-san?” stopped him dead in his tracks. He glanced back at Sousuke, who was still leaning against the door, waiting.

So he approached Sousuke again, and while that proud posture made Sousuke seem sure of himself, the slight shifting of that body, the closer Shunsui got, told him something else...

The height difference had Sousuke looking up at him, anticipating his next move. But instead of leaning into Sousuke, Shunsui reached around to push at the small of Sousuke’s back, practically aligning their bodies. The small smile that suddenly tugged on the corner of Sousuke’s lips didn’t deter him whatsoever and he repositioned his palm to rest it lightly on the nape of Sousuke’s neck. And with a clever thumb at one of the muscles, he had Sousuke’s head tilted upwards.

He then brushed their lips together, ever so slightly. And after a murmur of, “Goodnight.” against those soft lips, he Shunpo’d out.

\----

Sousuke smirked, once back inside of his flat. Not because of the sweet taste of liquor that lingered on his lips, nor because of the kiss itself, but because Shunsui was going to be the easiest to trap into a BloodBond.

His smug pleasure dwindled fast though when he saw the two cushions and the mess of blankets that was supposed to be his mattress. The tatami was old and too hard to sleep even remotely comfortable on the ground...

It was going to be a long night...

In the wee hours of the night, he had enough of his restless turning. His lifestyle in Hueco Mundo had undoubtedly spoiled him, and even though this was still an upgrade from Muken and Hell, he shouldn’t be content with the bare minimum. 

So he got up to wander the night market in Inuzuri. With all those brothels, it shouldn’t be a hassle to look for a cheap mattress that could serve as alternative until Shunsui came along with a more than decent futon. 

Yet just his luck that he had caught sight of a now familiar hooded form. The head of the Kuchiki clan hadn’t seen him coming out of one of the shops, but without being incognito himself, -his new black cloak, at home, would serve that purpose exactly- he couldn’t follow Byakuya inside of the building that the captain of the sixth division walked into.

Cherry’s okiya? One thing was for sure, no standard Geisha could be found there.

He practically caught Byakuya red handed. Who would have thought that one of the most respected nobles would blindingly follow his dick as well?

Interesting...

Well, he was short of a couple of more victims to the BloodBond. If Byakuya was interested in whores...then his brothel hopping would become his undoing, just as easily as his fellow noble counterpart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Concerning Grimmjow’s Hollow Hole: does he have kidneys or not? It really just depends on which picture you view of Grimmjow, sometimes the Hollow Hole seems to be bigger and placed higher and other times not...so I’ve just made up my mind that it doesn’t matter, because he does have kidneys in my fic, those organs would have been stationed just above the Hollow Hole. 
> 
> Also, thanks to the anonymous medical student! May his Soul rest in peace with the hopefully somewhat accurate descriptions. ;) 
> 
> Still it might not be a 100% accurate, I didn’t study medicine, ya’ll, alright. 
> 
> Also, for those that might be worrying about the other couples, this is not solely Kyouraku/Aizen, yes they do get a lot of attention now, but some of the ‘suitors’ are easier to manipulate by Aizen, than others. Some romances will be kind of slow burn, but not too slow, don’t worry, I don’t have that patience either. XD 


	8. Mad

** Chapter Eight: Mad **

When Sousuke stepped out of his flat the next morning, he was greeted with a rather large closed off bag, and without it being translucent he couldn’t directly tell from the shape what it could be. There was a note strapped to it though, reading; ‘Sweet dreams.’

The declaration didn’t make him immediately any wiser on its contents and while he had doubts that it could involve something sinister, he still checked the bag outside of his flat.

It was a mattress. 

He had just stored away his own recently bought cheap futon, since he disliked the cluttered mess the blankets gave as a first impression when walking into his flat. But, before running out of the door, he still set out to unpack Kyouraku’s gift.

The Captain Commander must have already been on duty for a couple of hours, since it was only eight o’clock, and to be surprised so early in the morning... He had to admit, that was noble of Kyouraku.

He looked again at the note, and just then noticed it had something written on the back as well; ‘Ps, your door has a dent.’

Kyouraku’s so called perceptive skills were rather unassuming if the other had only noticed that dent right then and there.

If only the other men he was pursuing, were as easy as Kyouraku-san...

Rolled out on the dirty tatami, the underground matt that was included in the bag, could hardly protect the pristine white mattress from its filthy surroundings. He never imagined a futon could look so out of place, but it did.

And with reason he supposed. The definition of fancy could perfectly fit the futon’s description. When he tried it out, he could attest to its best attributes; it was soft, thick and its durability could practically be felt.

If the Soul King had inhabited a humanoid form, it would have definitely slept on something like this.

After having sufficiently be convinced of its quality, he stored it away and went in the direction of the fourth division.

It took a while before he finally reached the South gate that passed into the Seireitei, but he noticed it immediately when he did. Not solely by the abundance of men and women in uniform, nor by the seemingly organised structure of the buildings that weren’t slotted against each other with barely any room to manoeuvre to the next street, but by the different atmosphere regarding his person.

He wasn’t wearing Kyouraku’s flamboyant coloured kimono, but he might as well have worn something flashy since his presence was noticed instantly. It seemed as if he had just stepped into enemy territory, since hostile glares and palms at the ready on the hilt of a Zanpakuto watched him go by.

He was followed immediately and it was clearly indicated that he was being kept an eye on, as if that would have deterred him from not keeping a low profile... 

At the gates of the fourth division, he was held back by the two guards. “State your reason for visiting.”

Well, his reason wouldn't exactly gain him entrance...

The fourth division was the only medical facility, apart from unofficial mediocre healing stations run by some Souls in the Rukongai. And while officially any wounded Soul would receive medical attention, here in the fourth, the truth was that most severely wounded Rukon Souls were left to their own devices.

So the chance that any non-military visitor would enter, was small. 

Grimmjow was thus an exception because he fell into Urahara’s good graces.

That thought had crossed his mind for just a split second and then Urahara himself decided to help him out a second time. He hadn’t seen Urahara approaching, because the blond came from behind him, but he could recognise that voice out of nowhere.

“It’s okay, I know why he’s here, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

He glanced at Urahara’s suggestion to chaperone him, the sight of the other with a bouquet of dark blue, almost turquoise, coloured flowers in his hand was quite odd.

With a personal ‘guard’ at his side though, he gained entry soon enough. 

“And so you decide to help me,” once inside, he turned to Kisuke. “voluntarily even.” 

“Because I can imagine why you’re here.” Urahara said. The bouquet of flowers was simultaneously thrust into his hands.

“Oh you shouldn’t have-” he started sarcastically, but he was interrupted just as quickly.

“They’re not for you, they’re for Grimmjow.”

“Excuse me?” Why would he be giving Grimmjow flowers?

“You’re here to visit him aren’t you?” he couldn’t even say no in between Urahara’s chipper rambling. “Then you can give them to him, with Yoruichi’s regards.”

Yoruichi? He glanced briefly at the little card that read; ‘Get well tiger!’ The sheer ignorance of Grimmjow’s true Resurrection form agitated him in an instant and he thrust the bouquet back into Urahara’s direction. When Urahara didn’t accept it back, it was practically slapped into Urahara’s chest and a couple of petals twirled down to the ground.

“Then she can give them to him.”

Urahara shook his head and pushed his hand that held the bouquet back to him. Their back and forth game with the bouquet must have been quite a sight to the medical personnel that walked through the hallways. “She can’t, she’s busy. And so am I frankly, you can return my favour of helping you, twice already by the way.” His palm was patted while Urahara gave him a nod at the door behind them. “I need to head back to the twelfth, my lunch break is long since over.” 

“Why do you think I would be here to visit Grimmjow?”

“Who else would you be visiting here?” Urahara’s amused little grin was a little too smug.

Where was that anxiousness that normally surrounded him in his presence? 

“That is not what I meant, of course I’m here for Grimmjow, but I’m not here because I’m concerned, but because I’m still expecting an apology from him.”

Urahara’s grin dwindled slightly. “An apology?”

Why yes, Grimmjow bleeding and...pissing all over his futon was simply unacceptable. 

“Not that it is any of your business.”

“No, you’re right,” that sounded a little too insincere...“it’s not, except,” of course. “I’m supposed to be your chaperone here, so I kind of do need to know your reason on visiting him.”

He stared down in those light grey eyes, the kind of intimidation that normally did make others back down, yet it only seemed to brighten Urahara’s smile again... His oppressive reiatsu might have been missing...

He thrust the flowers back into Urahara’s chest, with a little more force than necessary now that he knew who they originally belonged to. But when he decided to pass the blond as well, Urahara held him back. 

“Didn’t you complain to me over the long distance between Inuzuri and the Seireitei, and yet, here you are, simply to get an apology from Grimmjow? That’s some determination there.” Urahara leaned in to him and chirpily commented, “And now you even intend to leave with not even that? I never knew you to give up so soon.” Urahara thought to have him figured out, didn’t he? He held his expression as impassive as could be. “He’s in room 22 by the way.” 

When Urahara walked back out, Sousuke found himself still standing there with the bouquet...

Urahara was going to regret mocking him.

But enough of that. 

On to room number 22, although on his way over when he passed a trashcan, he seriously contemplated throwing the bouquet away. Yet he decided against it at the end.

Grimmjow laid in a single room, which was often only a privilege nobles and captains acquired. Non-seated officers were normally laid in a hall with at least ten other beds, no matter the condition. And vice-captains could count on a room for two people. So why did Grimmjow deserve a single room?

His Espada appeared to be sleeping, his face looked blemish free once again, completely healed up with reiatsu, in fact aside from the oxygen mask, he seemed to be at the better hand. 

Sousuke was about to put the bouquet on the bedside table, but he was interrupted from doing so by one of the seated officers of the fourth division, a nurse, judging by the pink uniform. She took the flowers from him and said, “I’ll get a vase.”

It was too late to throw them away now...

He glanced back at Grimmjow, intriguingly watching the rise and fall of his Espada’s torso.

The nurse came back a little later. The flowers were already in a vase, filled with water, which was then put on the bedside table.

“Is he in need of the oxygen mask?” he asked her before she could leave again.

Weren’t they able to treat the collapsed lung just yet?

“Not exactly, but we had to put him under sedation since he tried to run away a couple of times and had reopened his wounds.”

He wasn’t surprised hearing that. He nodded, she smiled lightly and told him to call if he needed something, before she probably went to check up on her other patients.

It seemed like she either didn’t recognise him or she likely could care less.

Well... he could do nothing but wait then...

Unfortunately, Grimmjow’s room was windowless, passing the time with staring out into the busy streets of Soul Society was therefore not an option.

And watching a sleeping Grimmjow was only interesting for so long...

The green blue walls had no art or calligraphy decorations, and he had no book he could read. What had been the chances that Grimmjow would have still been sleeping anyways... 

He sighed and was about to wander aimlessly through the hallways, when he heard something falling to the wooden floorboards.

“All that shit...”

He glanced back to see Grimmjow struggling to sit up, while the oxygen mask laid on the floor. Thrown to the floor most likely seeing as Grimmjow was making motions of getting out of his bed as well.

His Espada’s upper abdomen were bandaged, even through the Hollow Hole.

With all that moving and the fact that Urahara had probably been right about Grimmjow having been in need of surgery, it was probably for the best if Grimmjow laid back down.

Yet helping Grimmjow wasn’t really appreciated by his Espada who after another slew of curse-words, ferociously demanded, “What are you doing here?!”

After avoiding Grimmjow’s poorly aimed swipe in his direction, Sousuke pushed a hand against Grimmjow’s shoulder, effectively pushing him back against the bed, until his arm was literally punched away. “Considering you crawled to my doorstep, severely wounded, you can’t pretend you wouldn’t want me near you.” 

“Crawled to your doorstep?” Grimmjow paused for a second to shift uncomfortably. Sousuke could barely catch a glimpse of a grimace. “You hit your head or something?! I wouldn’t even crawl to you if I was dying on the fucking sidewalk.”

“And yet you did...”

“I need these fucking cuffs off,” Grimmjow fiddled with his reiatsu armbands. “they’re fucking with my reiatsu. I’m healing slower than a damn human...”

That was the intention of those cuffs in the first place; they were meant to seal any sort of energy.

His staring at Grimmjow’s useless fumbling didn’t go unnoticed though.

“What the fuck do you want?!” 

“If you didn’t crawl to my doorstep then how do you explain how your unconscious form came to be at my door? By magically appearing, perhaps?”

If Grimmjow could succeed in glaring a hole through someone, Sousuke would have been missing his head by then.

“There is no shame in admitting you need help, Grimmjow.”

Well...that wasn’t entirely true. Grimmjow being beat up, and that probably in the middle of the street, was more than a dent in Sousuke’s own ego as well. Grimmjow had been a part of his army. And to have one of his previous high ranking soldiers going down that easily...

Granted, he hadn’t witnessed Grimmjow’s fight, so he could hardly make up any scenario’s of his own, but he was definitely not proud of him.

Yet admitting the truth wouldn’t gain him an explanation of how Grimmjow appeared. 

“Who attacked you?”

Grimmjow’s gaze went back to fiddling with his seals. “I ain’t seen them coming, they came from behind.” but he gave up soon enough in pure frustration. “What the fuck is that anyways!”

Following Grimmjow’s gaze, the flowers were the only thing that could have been in his line of sight, since there was literally nothing else in the room.

“Those.are.flowers, Grimmjow.” he spoke deliberately slower as if he was talking to a small child.

“Yeah, no shit, who the fuck picks up grass and sticks them in a pot?!”

“Flowers are used as a, ‘get well soon’, gesture.” he replied in the most simplest of terms.

Should he really be educating Grimmjow?

Grimmjow snorted.

Actually...

He approached Grimmjow’s bedside, even when Grimmjow’s bright blue eyes followed him like a hawk. Before he just sat down on the edge.

“What is your relation to the Shihoin heiress?”

“Who the fuck is that?!” Grimmjow gestured wildly while shoving him off of the edge with a kick of his heel.

“Yoruichi!” he snapped, admittedly losing his temper over Grimmjow’s physical outbursts. The kick at his left lower back had not exactly been pleasant...

“Urahara’s wench?” Grimmjow asked confusedly.

She was not Urahara’s wench, period.

“There’s no relation, like what the fuck? She’s a pain in the freaking ass, that’s what she is. Why ya asking?”

The feline characteristics could have attracted each other.

“No reason.” 

“What are ya still doing here?!”

...Good question...It seemed suddenly useless to demand an apology when Grimmjow was likely too delusional to even remember anything.

“I need to be going.” he replied and hurried out of that room.

When he was about to turn the corner though, he could barely avoid walking into Urahara. “Urahara-san? Don’t worry, Grimmjow is still alive, should you have been doubting my intentions.”

After fiddling with the electronic device Urahara had in his hand, he hid it away inside of his lab coat. “Yeah...I kinda trusted you on that already, your aim is horrible anyways.”

“Apparently.” he replied blandly and didn’t wait on Urahara while he was already on the way back to the exit.

“I wasn’t allowed to leave, I did agree to be your chaperone here...” Urahara said as he caught up with a simple Flash-Step.

“And yet it surprises you that you can’t manage to climb the ranks with that sort of attitude regarding your work.” 

“I’m not trying to get a promotion at all, I’m okay with being an assistant.”

He snorted at Urahara’s lack of ambition. “Wasting away that brilliant mind of yours...” he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“I assure you I’m not. You would know, I mean besides my brilliant seals that got the deed done,” Sousuke stopped in his tracks in an instant, facing Urahara’s smug mug with a raised eyebrow, yet Urahara continued his gloating, “there are multiple other instances where I was of great assistance in the war, invaluable even.”

“I wouldn’t know, you see I was trapped in Muken. And even then, I don’t recall Bach being defeated by your doing...”

“No, that’s right. Then again, you have to admit, the threat of Bach was on this scale,” Urahara gestured high up in the air with his left palm, “compared to you being at least...somewhere around here.” his right palm was gestured significantly lower.

“I see...” without letting the comparison get to his head, Sousuke instead closed their distance so he could whisper inside of Urahara’s ear, “...and yet you see me as a threat?” While he invaded Urahara’s personal space he was met with the blond leaning away from him.

“I don’t.” Confidence had left Urahara’s tone of voice due to their proximity though, which disproved his claim of not feeling threatened.

“You do.” he replied stubbornly.

It was Urahara’s time to seemingly ignore him and walk passed him, but just like Urahara prevented him from leaving, Sousuke did the same by grabbing unto his elbow.

“Since I’m here anyways, why don’t you check up on my reiatsu?”

The proximity to the thirteenth division might make him run into Ichigo after all.

Urahara patted his palm again and stated, “Since you love running back and forth between Inuzuri and Soul Society, why don’t you come back on Wednesday.” before he was basically steered out of the fourth.

Why would that one day matter? Urahara’s weekly checkups were ridiculous and his suggestion to come back was simply done out of spite.

Once outside, Urahara stopped being his supposed chaperone.

He thought about visiting the thirteenth division anyways, but the walk over would take a while, not to mention while Urahara might be out of sight, that didn’t mean that he was out of Urahara’s vision.

No matter, he could try that on Wednesday as well.

Yet, no luck on Wednesday either, unfortunately. And making up an explanation for his visit to Rukia was awkward to say the least. The week itself had been rather uneventful even, aside from having had the chance to pester Urahara some more, he had made no progress whatsoever regarding any BloodBond. Kyouraku hadn't sought his services, and that when he was becoming in dire need of money, and hunting through the night on the lookout for a brothel-visiting Byakuya only made him exhausted.

Well...at least there was Shinji on Friday.

-0-

“Someone forgot their coat.”

Shinji glanced back from behind his piano to see Kiko holding a black hooded coat in her hands.

“Typical, prob’ too drunk to remember, leave it here, maybe it’s a regular.”

He was already long since done with his act, in fact the Blue Inn had just closed and the last customer had just been shoved out of the door. And while he would have normally been enjoying the free drink Kiko offered him and basking in his post performance rush, his muse hadn’t entirely left him.

Ever since Aizen’s missing presence, now three Friday nights in a row, he couldn’t help but mull over the same sort of tunes. It was as if Aizen fuelled the creative process in his head, which was ridiculous.

He cracked the muscles in his fingers, before freeing that muse once again, translating it into more than familiar tones by now.

And while imagined lyrics jumbled into his mind along with the steady refrain, he could barely hear Kiko’s request, but seeing her give a wave spoke louder than words. 

“Yeah, no prob’ I’ll lock up.” Shinji promised in a hum.

He didn’t care to look back at her to see if she caught it, he was long since already lost in his music again.

The silent fury of his Hollow, due to Aizen missing in action, was bottling up all sorts of emotions. He was awarded with flowing creative juices, yeah, but...

‘It’s driving me insane...’ when he hummed his frustration it actually seemed to flow well with the music. He replayed the part along with his new-founded epiphany. 

Playing piano not only managed to sooth him, but it calmed his Hollow as well, it was as if that pure instinctual part of him felt the vibes as well.

‘Feel the vibe...feel the terror...’ he was actually humming anything that he felt right at that moment and it... oddly clicked. Who knew that there was a hidden songwriter inside of him?

It wasn’t often that lyrics would come as naturally to him as then. He wasn’t a singer anyways, solely a musician, plus he wasn’t talented in the vocal department at all. Yet he was all alone, so why wouldn’t he indulge himself?

With how his mind had been recently disorganised with all sorts of ideas, he had to get rid of them in the only way that seemed effective, else he wouldn’t be able to...

‘I can’t think...’

He needed something that would keep himself or his Hollow from going mad.

‘Mad...’

That would be the refrain, for sure. It was something that repeatedly crossed his mind. So he replayed it again, trying to string some more words to that single one.

‘Mad...about...’ he briefly opened his eyes and he stopped playing in an instant, “You.” Aizen stood there, right next to the top board. He glanced quickly back at the black coat and when his eyes reconnected with Aizen’s, the brief smirk on that mug made him spew out, “The fuck are you doing here?!”

His Hollow awoke from its melodic slumber, ready to no doubt rip the bastard apart.

“The owner must have forgotten to check the bathroom when closing up.” Aizen replied with a shrug. 

Yeah right...

He agitatedly played with his tongue piercing as he thought about his next action. Whatever options that crossed his mind though, throwing Aizen out seemed the most logical one. Yet when he made notions of standing up, Aizen urged him to, “Play for me?”

“What?...Nah! Fuck no. What makes ya think that I would obey any of yer commands?!” The fuck did he think he was? An orchestra conductor?!

“It was not a command, it was a simple question. I love hearing you play this...foreign instrument.”

He practically wanted to slap Aizen’s hand off when it glided over the top board. The fucking audacity!

“Ever since you had brought in that gramophone in the fifth, I have come to appreciate your preference in music-”

He stood up abruptly, cutting off Aizen’s bullshit. “Get the fuck out!” he gave Aizen simultaneously a shove which did manage to back up Aizen a step or three. For maybe a couple of seconds, since Aizen persistently came back to stand next to the top board.

“Why is it so hard to believe that I genuinely like your music? Unless, you yourself have doubts about your play-”

Despite being at least half a head shorter than Aizen, he stepped closer to the other’s frame and buffed himself up. It might not even be remotely menacing, considering the corners of Aizen’s lips quirked up, but Shinji didn’t care. “Are ya trying to provoke me?!” 

“Not at all.” Aizen soothed in that unbelievably fake tone. “I’m merely interested in hearing your music. Let me ask you correctly if I offended you, would you play for me, please? I promise to go away afterwards.”

He licked his lips, seriously contemplating Aizen’s request. Wait a second, contemplating?! Why would he even think about it in the first place?! The bastard didn’t deserve a freaking private show. 

“If you’re so interested, come back next Friday then.”

“To sit through the ‘main’ performance again?” Aizen sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m only here for you.”

Something Shinji basically already knew, but to hear Aizen admitting to his stalker like habits out loud...

“Alright.” he must be truly insane to even consider that request, but Aizen was the crazier of the two of them, so he should maybe play by his rules. “I’m throwing you out afterwards, whether ye want to or not.”

Aizen raised his hands in an agreeable manner.

Shinji took place behind his piano once more. And although he was rarely nervous over a performance, sometimes those nerves could play up anyways, during a new song for example, among other things. 

But never would he feel the kind of stage fright that he felt right now in front of Aizen.

And with reason. He was legitimately wary of Aizen unexpectedly coming at him with a weapon, so he kept his eyes open, firmly trained on Aizen’s person.

And though it was hard to keep that penetrating look, the tense atmosphere lessened greatly when it were Aizen’s eyes that closed during his play. He even leaned against the top board, quite literally enjoying his music?

Whatever that even was supposed to signify, Shinji still kept being on guard anyways. He wasn’t going to be fooled.

When he had played a random routine, Aizen’s eyes reopened and Shinji was rewarded by a small applause.

He would have felt honoured at that praise, but when it was Aizen giving him that respect, he was sceptical of its honesty.

“Yeah, whatever.” he shrugged and motioned at the door, “Out now.”

When Aizen walked to one of the tables instead, Shinji was all but ready to tackle him out, yet Aizen just grabbed the black coat, before walking to the door.

“Next time I’ll tell Kiko to check the bathroom!” he warned, not that that would stop Aizen’s crazy stalking habits...

Aizen just waved his goodbye.

Yeah...

-0-

At least Shinji hadn’t thrown him out instantly. It couldn’t be called progress either, but it was definitely a step forward.

Sousuke headed right back to Inuzuri to walk through the streets there, hood covering his identity, he waited in between the scantily glad men and women that were looking for their share for the night.

And in comparison to the hungry sex workers around him, he was looking for one man only.

Hours went by, leaving him standing with only a couple of the street workers. Most were already long since picked up by a random Shinigami, who was mostly still in uniform. Which should have besmirched the ‘good’ name of the military, on the contrary though, groups of Gotei soldiers encouraged their friend who wasn’t as convinced to try out the available merchandise.

Now and then a hooded figure, likely holding the reputation of a ‘loyal’ bonded partner or a high ranking individual, swept away their entertainment as well. Neither of who looked to be Kuchiki Byakuya, judging by their physique. 

The hooded figures seemed to be in favour though, they likely tipped more. Unfortunately for Sousuke, the black cloak he wore fit that criteria perfectly... A brass, “I’m waiting for someone.” always did the trick though.

If he hadn’t been living in between this life of debauchery for a while now, he would have been surprised by the sex trade being such a booming business. 

When Byakuya finally arrived, he recognised him not solely by that somewhat lanky frame, but by his mannerisms. Hypnotism in the form of impersonating someone had to have Sousuke trained in catching the smallest of gestures after all. 

Posture incredibly straight, as was becoming of a noble, Byakuya practically rushed through the mirage of temptation with the help of Shunpo. The simple manner in which Byakuya passed everyone on the street to walk further into Inuzuri, only to end up in one of the brothels, spoke of it being a practiced habit. 

Sousuke followed him into the establishment that was named after the umpteenth innuendo.

It was the first time that he stepped into a brothel, and although he couldn’t say what he had expected, the fact that the establishment provided a lounge of some sort, clean at first glance, made it seem fancy.

But to have a noble as customer... he still couldn’t believe that Byakuya wouldn’t have rather resorted to owning his own personal harem in the comfort of his estate.

Yet, Byakuya had headed immediately to the desk, where he was greeted and given the ever famous portfolio of which he could chose his type.

Sousuke remained in the background, hood still covering his visage, he looked at the displayed silver plates that had engraved bodies in provocative positions. The silverware was reflective enough to keep an eye on his target behind him.

The moment that Byakuya was lead into the hallway and to one of the rooms, Sousuke followed at a certain distance. When the host made Byakuya enter into a designated room, Sousuke casually passed by, and saw a glimpse of a red headed male kneeling on a futon, before the door slid closed.

The moans coming from the neighbouring rooms made Sousuke prefer to wait outside instead where he of course confronted Byakuya as soon as he came out of the building again. “Kuchiki-san.” he said while palming the hooded figure’s shoulder.

When Byakuya turned around, Sousuke’s palm was taken in a firm grip to ground him to the spot. Not that he was planning on running anyways. After a glance into his hood, Byakuya questioned, “Are you following me?” it was said in an even tone but the brusqueness behind it told him otherwise. 

“I am actually.” Byakuya probably hadn’t expected the honesty, because those eyes widened for a fraction before they hardened in a glare.

The grip around his palm tightened. “Explain yourself immediately, Aizen, or you’ll find yourself back in Hell.”

He wasn’t trying to stir up any trouble, on the contrary, he needed Byakuya’s attention. 

“I assure you I don’t want any trouble, I think we are all looking for the same sort of pleasure here, aren’t we?” he inquired salaciously.

Dark grey eyes narrowed suspiciously, “No, we aren't.” and the grip around his palm disappeared as Byakuya was probably planning on Shunpo-ing away, because the noble’s hood was pulled further down to hide any expression. 

“No need to lie,” he urged, he couldn’t miss the chance now. “sex sells, there is no need to be ashamed of your preferences.”

“Are you trying to blackmail me, Aizen?” his name was almost spit out in distaste. “That might work on someone like Urahara, but you are gravely mistaken if you think you can mess with my name or my reputation.” 

Oh he surely didn’t underestimate a noble’s ‘power’, their connection to the Soul King and Central’s superior position would not work in his favour at all. He was familiar with the corrupt form of authority, but the King of Hell wasn’t so easily convinced. At least, not as long as Sousuke acted in accordance to the game. A game that would benefit him in the end when he had the strongest men of Soul Society bound to him to the death.

So why would he mess up his only chance of freedom?

“Now why would I do that?” his own reputation might be to blame for that... “I am only trying to make a living here.”

The hood was pulled up a bit as if Byakuya wanted to look him in the eye to make sure he had heard that right. “You work here?”

“Not here.” he nodded at the brothel. “I work for myself, but I do roam the streets so to speak.”

Byakuya looked him up and down, clearly in disbelief.

His attire wasn’t exactly convincing. In fact, if only he had worn the brightly coloured kimono that Kyouraku had gifted him, so he could have maybe looked the part after some adjustments...

His charm was all he had now to sell himself, and when had that not been enough? He was practically gifted in the art of persuasion.

“Well...I’m not exactly on ‘duty’ tonight, but perhaps I can persuade you?” he had reached out a hand to try and make it land on Byakuya’s shoulder a second time, yet his palm was taken a hold of, again.

“You can’t give me what I want.” Byakuya said almost resolutely.

He would have shuffled closer to get on a more intimate level, but the grip around his wrist kept him both steady and at a distance. “How brass to even judge that beforehand, try me and maybe you’ll find out.” 

“I require...special needs.”

Special needs... He couldn’t look through Byakuya’s tightly closed cloak, but he could almost picture the slender and feminine looking build. However special those needs may be, they couldn’t be worse than Kyouraku’s preference to tie someone up.

“We can make a contract.” he offered, yet he was answered with a dismissive snort.

“I don’t do contracts, you either take everything, or nothing at all.”

“Deal.” he turned his wrist in the slightest manner, even though his muscles strained due to Byakuya’s unrelenting grip, yet he could palm Byakuya’s forearm lightly in a mock handshake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For Shinji’s lyrics I was thinking whether to pick Ed Sheeran’s Make it rain or Mad about you. (originally by Hooverphonic, but since Shinji is a man, I picked a male cover: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=osh-9PCw6lg) I ultimately decided on Mad about you. 
> 
> I don’t own any of these songs, of course, they belong to their respective songwriters. 
> 
> Also I’m not going to lie, I was a little down at the fact that this fic didn’t receive a lot of reception, and I did consider abandoning it, but then I thought about my lovely readers that have been supporting me all the way through (Pandanonymous and Zenri) and I just couldn’t leave it hanging. Also my other fics aren’t abandoned either, the ideas for this fic are just rushing in and before I know it, I have another chapter finished, which makes me want to share it in an instant, the dilemma ya’ll. 


	9. The illustrious life of Aristocracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As the title suggests: Just Shunsui and Byakuya’s part 
> 
> Also a fair warning for all Byakuya/Aizen parts, well until a certain point; Byakuya doesn’t follow the right BDSM practices; no safe word, no aftercare, no contract,... but don’t worry, their...relationship won’t have these unfair power dynamics forever, but keep in mind, it will take some time. 

**Chapter Nine: Aristocracy**

Sousuke waited at the designated place Byakuya expected him to be, punctually on time, yet no Byakuya in sight. The dingy inn offered rooms by the hour.

He paced through the hallway, full of tacky wallpaper which made it seem like one of those love motels from the real world. And as he glanced inside, in the lobby, to make sure that the Kuchiki wasn’t seated on one of the ragged looking leather seats, he leaned against the wall, right next to the open doorway that lead to the counters. 

Byakuya was another one he could scratch off of his list of potential victims to the BloodBond. It was simple, whomever he approached, he would edit his strategy to accommodate his partner’s wishes. The easiest trick in the book to arouse an interest into someone.

And Byakuya, the pretty aristocrat that, judging by Byakuya’s past Rukon lover, was all too willing to break the moral noble code that forbade any relations with peasants. So he would play along with that dirty game, to evoke intrigue in order to hook the noble and slot him into a bond that would make Sousuke immortal once more. Because unless Soul Society wanted to sacrifice its strongest forces, they couldn’t get rid of him anymore whatsoever. The BloodBond was a lifeline that ran between him and his partners, severing that line wouldn’t only kill him alone.

However different that Byakuya and Shunsui even seemed, all noble men were apparently depraved and starved of intimacy. 

Besides, seeing as how bland and tame Shunsui turned out to be, despite his reputation, Byakuya’s so called special needs would be just as vanilla.

Well, that is if he even showed up...

He sighed as he glanced back yet again to look at the clock. Fifteen minutes too late? Had he been stood up or had the dear noble gotten cold feet?

That wouldn’t do.

When the next couple that entered, passed him, he heard them requesting for the room they had reserved.

Sousuke walked up to the counters, ready to ask them wether Byakuya had already arrived or not, maybe their encounter had already been listed as well. Byakuya did seem to be organising to the point where he put everything on the agenda and in so would also reserve their appointment well beforehand.

“Kuchiki.” he stated when asked under what name their reservation was listed. Obviously, that got him nothing. Maybe the noble wanted to remain incognito, his getup with the hooded coat was also done out of precaution. “Aizen.” he tried instead and that earned him the key to room number six, along with the affirmation that his partner had already arrived.

Well, great. Did the Kuchiki think that he could read his mind? How was he supposed to know that he just had to directly come up to the room.

The dark emerald green carpet ran through the whole building, only increasing the trashy and seedy vibe that cemented the whole Rukon neighbourhood.

Sousuke knocked on room number six, but received no answer whatsoever. He waited just a minute longer before he entered anyways.

The room was small, even smaller than his studio flat. It barely fit a double bed with a dresser at the foot end. One corner had the same black leather chair as in the lobby, where the black coat was draped over, confirming that Byakuya still rather remained incognito. While right next to the other corner a door probably lead into the bathroom.

Byakuya had his back turned to him, busying himself with something on top of the dresser. “You’re late.” came the reprimanding drone.

Was Byakuya trying to make a fool out of him? How had he been supposed to know that he should have come up straight away?

“Your instructions aren’t exactly clear, if that is the sort of communication you use in the sixth, I feel sorry for your lieutenant.” 

Byakuya minutely glanced back. Not even granting him with much more than a simple once over. “Renji is capable of following my instructions though, I wouldn’t exactly call him a genius, but if my orders are a little too complicated for you to follow then I suppose it shouldn't come off as a surprise that my lieutenant’s years of service combined surpass the amount of your service in total to the Gotei.”

That could have easily been one of Senbozakura’s dangerously sharp petals that sliced right into his pride... He tried hard to keep his face as emotionally blank as possible, even though Byakuya wasn’t even looking at him.

“He has worked himself up from Inuzuri, while you on the other hand have only lowered yourself down into Inuzuri.”

It was all said in a neutral tone, no condescending hint nor was it riddled with amusement, yet it felt just as disparaging, especially when Byakuya wasn’t even looking at him.

Well, laughing or not, Byakuya won’t be the one coming out of this as the superior one.

If his history should have taught Byakuya one thing, then it should have been the fact that Sousuke would always come out on top, whatever even the situation. 

Sousuke didn’t give a response though, it was best to ignore that accusation instead of cementing that belief even further with words of denial.

His silence had Byakuya eventually turning around. Dressed in a rather formal looking azure kimono that brought out those dark grey eyes, Byakuya didn’t exactly seem to be ready yet to start their...session. 

What was even expected of him? Because if that was the sort of sign language Byakuya was going to use as ways of communication...

He always thought of the aristocrat to be a little socially inept, like many nobles, but this...

“How much do you ask for two hours?” Byakuya questioned while his hand dived into his kimono above the obi to take out some cash.

At least they went straight to business. 

“35,000 yen.” he answered instantly. If that was the amount Shunsui was prepared to spend on him, just for his company, then Byakuya was sure to agree. As a noble, they had money to squander after all.

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. And the simple gesture made him seem every bit the definition as if Byakuya was belittling him with just a glance. “5000 will do.” the exact amount he already had in hand, it had never been up to his choice... “You’re nothing more than an amateur whore, you wouldn’t even make this much out on the streets.”

Sousuke took a deep breath through his nose to ensure that he could pass those words cooly over himself instead of expressing his discontent. Were these words supposed to humiliate him?

Shouldn’t he just go back to earning commissions in the black market?

Yet, this wasn’t about the amount of money he received, he had to keep his goal in mind; which was Byakuya trapped in a BloodBond. 

He was much more than someone that worked the streets, he was even above the Kuchiki that stood in front of him, in fact, he surpassed everyone in Soul Society, because he was a God.

And he would show Byakuya exactly what he was capable of, all in due time.

If his lack of reaction had managed to irritate Byakuya or not, it didn’t show anyhow. Byakuya came across just as in control as he portrayed himself as.

The money was then disrespectfully thrown in Sousuke’s direction, making the two notes of 2000 yen and one note of 1000 yen scatter around him. 

It was becoming very obvious that Byakuya and Shunsui were each other’s opposites in the way they treated him.

He bend down to pick up the banknotes, but Byakuya intercepted with a barked out, “No, wait. Undress first, then bend down on your knees to pick them up with your mouth.”

His mouth had slightly fallen open at the outrageous request, before he realised that it was best to keep his reactions as neutral as possible. The same for Byakuya’s deep hard stare that was following his every move.

Humiliation was apparently Byakuya’s tactic.

He loosened his sash, yet not fast enough to his noble Kuchiki, since Byakuya Shunpo’d immediately behind him to tug insistently at the strip of fabric at his back. When the knot loosened just so, it unraveled due to Byakuya’s hasty tugging.

Before he could glance back to give that impatient attitude a condescending grin of his own, Byakuya had already Shunpo’d back to the front to sit down on the leather chair.

Sousuke then took off the kimono.

There was no point in stalling, nor time for embarrassment. He would be getting naked before a couple of other men as well, so he should be getting used to that, besides his nudity was nothing to be ashamed of. He did not only possess the power of a deity, but also the looks of one. 

He rid himself of his fundoshi with the same flair, before he looked back at Byakuya. One of Byakuya’s arms was supporting his head on the armchair while the other hand still had his sash in hand. Expression and posture straight, he seemed in other words impeccably confident in the whole matter. Simply a vision that should have resembled Sousuke himself...well, if he had succeeded in his quest to becoming the Soul King... 

While now, he stood naked, in front of someone of the nobility, ready to give himself over completely to another. The exact opposite of what should have happened. This wasn’t something that he was supposed to be doing. He shouldn’t bend for another man...

Wasn’t he actually fooling himself with this show?

Still, he held up his head high and bend down on one knee, ready to lower himself completely until Byakuya made a come hither motion with his fingers.

Couldn’t he make up his mind?

Sousuke straightened and walked up to the seated Kuchiki. Absolutely nothing on his own mind, yet he did catch a glimpse of one of the items on the dresser. The belt, a clothing accessory from the Human World, had him minutely staggering in his own confident posture, before he steeled himself again. Nothing could faze him.

Byakuya simply changed the gesture to signal for him to turn around. No words, simple sign language. The silence was actually worse, it only managed to inflict a crack into his walled up defence of expressionlessness. Was Byakuya truly into this or was he seeking to humiliate his person as a whole?

He turned his completely bared back to Byakuya and had to wait a painstaking minute before the next order. 

“Hands behind your back.”

Those were words at least, commanded words.

As he obeyed, he felt his wrists being entrapped by his own sash.

“I could punish you for your trickery involving Rukia’s execution.” Sousuke kept quiet as the material was fastened none too gently, already kind of cutting off his circulation... “Yet that punishment would inhabit more than two hours.” The material fastened even further to the point that the soft material became razor sharp, he balled his own fists in the hope not to give a kick or any sort of reaction. “But I think punishing you for your inability to be punctual should be enough for today.” The material loosened just enough so it wasn’t cutting into his skin anymore.

But it was still too tight. It would leave marks for sure, especially since he had no reiatsu at his disposal to heal them. 

He awaited his next instructions awkwardly, trying in vain not to squirm too much in his bonds. His wrists burned fervently...

“Have you forgotten your task already?”

Again with the ambiguous orders... He shouldn’t be expecting permission, he should instead presume he was allowed to do as he pleased. To a degree.

He was about to walk back to the notes on the ground until he was harshly pulled back by his tied wrists. The unnatural stretch practically dislocated his shoulders...and had him halting his steps immediately, almost falling into Byakuya’s lap at the enhanced pull.

“Didn’t I tell you to get on your knees?” 

...

He minutely closed his eyes and got down on one knee, the emerald green carpet practically scraped against his skin before he was even shuffling forwards on his knees. When his other knee touched the ground, he was glad that the room was small enough to manoeuvre in in such a humiliating posture. 

Hands bound at his back, did it ever occur that it threw off his balance somewhat? It did though, whenever he tried to speed up the process of those small shuffles.

He didn’t look back, not once, he couldn’t bare to see Byakuya’s pleasure at his degradation. This was a simple power play after all, Sousuke couldn’t blame Byakuya, he would have done the same in his time as lord of Hueco Mundo.

His Espada had practically crawled on the floor with the help of his reiatsu, which had been entertainment enough. But, it never turned into a sexual encounter, such kind of humiliation hadn’t even come to his mind.

When he reached the first back note, it became apparent that picking up the dirty paper off of the floor with his mouth, was not going to be easy. He just wanted to barely nip the money, just a touch with his lips, nothing more. Yet, even that failed when he couldn’t even get a hold of it so flat against the carpet.

And that...carpet was already questionably clean. Not visibly so, but the thought of what had happened previously in a rental room made him doubt about its cleanliness.

Perhaps if he nudged the banknote with his nose until it could fold against his knees. No, apparently not. If the ground wasn’t covered in carpet, maybe.

“Is there a problem?”

He glanced back and just now realised he was giving Byakuya a full view of his behind. And with his legs slightly spread for balance...he was practically opening all doors. 

Byakuya was aware though, their eyes only connected at that point.

He straightened up and slightly changed his angle, those dark grey eyes were a little too penetrating. 

“How do you suppose I pick up that money?”

“I don’t care how, if necessary with your tongue-”

Unacceptable. As if Byakuya would ever consider his own suggestion...

He took a deep breath to sooth his own rising frustration. “Not a paper that circulates around and gets touched by everyone imaginable.”

“Funny...” There was nothing in that stoic expression that betrayed any amusement. Byakuya stood up and stopped right in front of him. “...that a man of your stature thinks money is dirty.”

He didn’t need money, in fact if Kyouraku paid him for a couple of hours he had enough to get around for a week or two. Yet his treats here and there to impress the other suitors did have him live in a splurging spree.

Money was squandered easily now that he didn’t have his reserves available.

“Pick it up.”

He looked resolutely up into that self-satisfied emotionless face of the Kuchiki, he was truly curious if Byakuya had it in him to punish him. He was practically waiting for Byakuya to use his reiatsu in order to oppress him. That would make the noble head of the Kuchiki clan no better than him.

“Pick it up.”

He saw Byakuya’s palm raise into the air, the sting and pain in his cheek was felt just a second later, yet it registered only after, that Byakuya had just hit him. The shock itself stung worse at that point.

Never, had he himself, ever, used his hands as discipline on his Espada. Granted it was done by someone else, through his command, but this... 

His head had even turned slightly at the sheer force behind that palm, his own hands itched due to the bound obi while he tried to free himself from the bindings. Not only because he wanted to exact some sort of revenge, but because he wanted to practically brush away the invisible heated hue that was left behind on his skin. He glanced back at Byakuya’s still perfectly poised posture.

No amusement, no satisfaction to be seen on those impassive features. The pure perfection the other upheld made him furious and he practically flew up to the other’s height.

Even so, his hands bound and reiatsu locked, except the intimidation of his own height compared against Byakuya’s, there was nothing that could challenge the other. A foolish kick in the right direction wouldn’t even do remote damage. Hakuda was useless in his situation. 

And with the pressure of Byakuya’s full reiatsu suddenly pressing down on him, his legs quaked easily back into submission. He wouldn’t make a sound, he promised himself, not a single breath would leave his lips, he refused. Yet the force practically compressed his lungs to gasp out desperately for some air.

The muscles in his knees and calves strained to resist, but it was futile fighting against that power when the suffocating weight dragged him down to the ground anyways.

“...I hold the reigns here, Aizen.” he could barely hear when the strain made him only aware of vague sounds somewhere far off. “You might have misunderstood your place in the Gotei, but here, you have nothing to say.”

While he prided himself on not having Grimmjow’s sailor mouth, he could practically curse Byakuya out.

When it stopped, he felt exhausted. He felt drained, even though the pressure must have zoned in on him for a couple of seconds.

“Is that clear?”

He nodded his head just barely, breathing through his nose in an attempt to make it seem as if the spectacle hadn’t fazed him whatsoever. The erratic rise and fall of his chest was more than evident though. 

Even so, Byakuya must have caught his affirmative response because he walked back to the leather armchair. He glanced at Byakuya’s retreating back and licked his lips, the slight sting there told him he had bitten down a little too hard...to keep from making any noise.

Would he be fast enough to catch Byakuya off guard? Probably not, it was just as foolish of a thought.

The slow steps Byakuya took was probably a form of testing him either way. When he sat down again, he repeated, “Pick it up.”

What was the point in stalling...

Sousuke bent down again, ready to get it over and done with, when the sounds of footsteps and murmurs outside in the hallway got him out of his determined zone. It made him check back to see if he still had Byakuya’s full concentration. Why yes, that gaze was strongly pointing in his direction. A hand gesture as if to say, ‘Go on’, was duly noted.

He let out a breath of frustration, which blew the piece of paper even further away...

...

Even though he was positive that the straight-faced expression of the other was still there, he refused to check if his failure had given him any sort of amusement.

But wait a second, maybe he should just suck it up with air instead? That little revelation shouldn’t make him proud as if he had just gotten a major breakthrough of some sort, but it got him closer to end this silly game.

Shuffling a little closer, he did just that, which budged the banknote a tiny bit. He was going to have to embarrass himself even further by sucking it up with an obscene noise. This was simply ridiculous.

He eventually managed it though, but when he struggled to keep sucking in his breath, he was reminded yet again of his lack of mobility. What now? He impatiently glanced at the noble on any further instruction. 

Byakuya held out his palm as if he was expecting Sousuke to come shuffling back like a dog...

No. He released his breath with a puff, blowing the banknote somewhere under the bed.

“I refuse to play your, ‘Go fetch game’. You can keep the money at this rate.”

Was this Byakuya’s intention? To make him do some utterly ridiculous tricks, so the other could pull his strings and revel in making him dance.

“Once again you prove that following instructions don’t come as easy to everyone.”

Was that disappointment? Regardless, he wasn’t here to praise his lordship in the first place.

“For your insubordination, you are rewarded with a punishment.” Byakuya motioned to come over. 

“As you wish, Kuchiki-taic-” he mockingly crooned while straightening up, but mid speech he was forcefully brought back down to the ground by an overwhelming flow of reiatsu.

“Is it that hard to remember what I asked of you?” Byakuya’s tone turned cold and harsh. “I told you, on.your.knees. Make no illusions here, you are in every sense below me.”

Every fibre in his muscles protested, but it was no use, it was destroyed by what he could imagine was only a small portion of the other’s pure pressure. His own sort of weapon being used against him as a punishment shamed him bone deep.

This was a tactic, he reminded himself, using his own stick to beat him.

“I wish to be addressed by Kuchiki-sama here.”

He couldn’t really croak out anything but grinding teeth at that moment though. When the tension released, it felt like a huge relief to his aching muscles. Was he that out of shape due to Muken and Hell?

Not that he gave any further thought to that, he obeyed. And as was requested of him, he kneeled properly to shuffle back to his highness.

Those stormy grey eyes followed his every move, eager to no doubt unleash another raging thunder on him, should he disobey.

Once in front of Byakuya, he knelt in seiza position.

Yet he received no praise for his efforts, not even a nod as recognition, instead those eyes remained impassively cold. And although he wasn't specifically waiting on Byakuya’s approval, some form of validation though would have been nice.

A motion to stand up was his next instruction, along with a gesture over Byakuya’s knees.

It made Sousuke blink in pure confusion, before Byakuya’s features twisted in pure frustration. “Bend over my knees.” the curt demand and another raise of Byakuya’s palm made him step back in order to backtrack that command.

What for? So he could be spanked like a naughty child?

He prevented a snort at the sheer absurdness of it.

If Byakuya thought that to be a punishment... He was long since no child anymore. 

Byakuya was at that point already beginning to straighten out of the chair, so Sousuke came to stand obediently next to him, ready to bend himself over those knees.

“I will let that slip for now, but should this...reoccur, be assured I won’t stay this nice.” 

Sure. A little bit of reiatsu play was all the punishment he received thus far. He smiled boldly which didn’t go unnoticed by the noble, yet no rush of pressure followed. And how confident Sousuke even felt at that moment, his muscles still strained at the mere thought.

Bending over, at a certain point he was met with gravity, which forced him to lie himself stomach down on Byakuya’s thighs, no, further, near his knees. The arms of the chair didn’t leave him with much room, which maybe explained the hard and tense muscles he felt underneath him. Uncomfortable even, especially when he couldn’t use his hands to place them anywhere as some form of balance.

Thankfully, his feet still touched the ground.

The first swat that landed on his ass made him jerk his entire body, he was caught off guard. Of course he realised what had been coming, but...the unpredictability of it was... unnerving.

The second slap landed on his other asscheek, still a flat palm that was brought down with less force than on his face earlier.

Did it hurt? Not really. His mother never had dished out a punishment in such a vile manner in the first place, -maybe she should have, it would have forced him to respect her- but he had seen neighbouring children being dealt with a hard hand. Why had he seen tears and screams in such instances, what was the fuss anyways? Aside from a slight sting, he couldn’t say that it could be called punishment... 

Oh, but every slap did make him jolt in the slightest. He could never predict the timing in between every swat. And he might have imagined it, but did it seem like Byakuya was putting more force behind every slap?

No...that was not it. The swats were beginning to nip at his already abused skin. The same sort of heated hue that he had felt previously on his cheeks was now located on his lower cheeks.

The same place being hit did the trick, made sense.

And that is exactly where Byakuya seemed to aim each time; at handprints that probably already decorated his ass by now. 

When it did began to hurt, the slaps bit at his skin. It was no mere nip by then.

Why did he get the feeling that his skin had gotten sensitive to pain? The protective blanket that his reiatsu had formed had kept out any initial attack for sure, but now...maybe he wasn’t as untouchable as he had presumed...

He tried to hide the skin that he could reach with his bound hands, intercepting another strike, yet it hit part of his ass anyways which made him fidget his legs in pure agony. The fabric around his bound wrists moved as well, but only so it reminded him of the burn.

Alright, he had to admit, it hurt a lot. 

“Aizen, move those hands.”

He gave an indecisive head shake as answer while his legs trembled in agitation.

“No?” Byakuya questioned resolutely. “Would you rather I grab the belt instead?”

Belt? That was a threat if he had heard any today. It made him hesitatingly move his hands out of the way, yet the next strike had him practically slipping from Byakuya’s lap in his knee-jerk reaction of trying to evade any more pain.

Hands grabbed at his hips to pull him properly back on Byakuya’s lap and although no slap followed, the thumbs that pressed into his abused flesh made him try to squirm out of that grip.

That was when he felt the clear proof that Byakuya was more than enjoying his display.

Byakuya’s forceful handling only stopped when Sousuke quit moving. Well, the thought of Byakuya getting off on someone’s pain did petrify him into a near motionless state.

If that wasn’t concerning...

He had to admit, he had enjoyed his Espada’s submission, from all of them, but never to the point where he could get sexual gratification from it.

By then he was also familiar with the near whooshing sound and motion of Byakuya’s body that betrayed another slap was incoming. So he simply pulled back, back unto his feet, the slap did land somewhere on his back, but at least his ass was spared.

The hurried motion unfortunately caught him off balance and he landed embarrassingly on his ass. Which made him practically spring back up in automatism because that had not been a good idea!

He was sensitive in that area, that much was clear.

That did count as ‘insubordination’ probably, because Byakuya’s palm was zoning in quick. And although he had still been in the process of getting back up, Sousuke promptly forgot the pain in his desperation to shove himself backwards on his ass.

A carpet burn was something that was missing from the equation. 

How humiliating. He had severely underestimated Byakuya’s so called special needs.

Without being able to reach him, Byakuya straightened up from his chair, only to reach in between the lapels of his kimono instead. 

A hidden weapon was his first thought, yet Byakuya’s straining fundoshi was pushed to the side to free the hard rod that had been poking him throughout his punishment. A come hither motion made him shuffle back on his knees, -he understood it now- until he was at face level with Byakuya’s cock. 

It was clear what was being asked of him.

The smooth and slender length was flushed, in stark contrast with the rest of Byakuya’s pale skin that peeked through the azure kimono.

This should have been familiar territory, but years had passed since his physical relationship with Gin and even then, foreplay wasn’t exactly part of their repertoire. It was more of a mutual gain to satisfaction, hasty fumbling in the dark.

“May I at least use my hands?” he was surprised by his own voice that had a certain husk to it. Well, he was getting quite thirsty...

“No.” Byakuya shook his head in a single shake, “Just your mouth.” before grabbing his length and guiding it to Sousuke’s lips. And with a smack of the reddish head against his cheek, Sousuke could smell the heady scent of the noble.

That Byakuya had a fetish for slapping someone was no news to Sousuke now, he could have practically expected it.

The head was rubbed into his skin, all the way to his mouth, where it passed the suddenly stinging cut into his bottom lip. Sousuke licked his lips on instinct and could immediately taste the saltiness Byakuya’s length left behind.

Byakuya repeated the action on his other cheek, yet when it passed over his lips a second time, Sousuke licked at the tip head on. Partially done to avoid the cut, but it halted Byakuya’s desperate need for friction?

Or had it been some form of humiliation or another again?

It didn’t matter, because being rubbed with Byakuya’s scent did seem to light his own fire in the pit of his stomach.

He kissed the tip, down to the middle of that slender length before he slid his tongue across the journey back up.

Byakuya’s busy hands were finally idle, resting against those hard thighs while those dark grey eyes followed his mouth intriguingly. And yet Sousuke didn’t have the sense that their eyes connected.

But they didn’t have to, he was maybe even surer of himself now that he got the feeling that he had some sort of control again.

Byakuya’s cock wasn’t thick, it was long and slender, that made it easier to swallow it down, which was also a benefit at that point, because with no hands to manoeuvre that rod in the right way, he had to make do. On occasions he did try to jerk his hands free anyways, to get a better grip or angle, yet the blasted fabric didn’t budge and only caused him discomfort when the wrong kind of burn lit up again. 

And sucking Byakuya down caused some reaction in the stoic noble, at last. Not with every back and forth motion of his mouth, but when his tongue passed a certain vein on the underside, an encouraging thrust of those bony hips urged him to take in more.

Backing up made his mouth give out an awkward slurping noise, but he was bend on receiving more emotion from Byakuya. He therefore bend literally through his knees to follow the length of that vein, yet his asscheeks accidentally came in contact with his heels, which made him journey back up on instinct. Byakuya didn’t seem to mind though, judging by the noble’s shifting. 

Spreading his calves a little wider, Sousuke repeated the action with success this time. And it was most definitely a hypersensitive zone since the hitching of Byakuya’s breath sounded loudly above his own heavy breathing. And a sudden palm at the back of his head, steered him if possible even closer to that length. 

Through it all, he felt the twitching of his own cock. After all the stinging slaps, his own satisfaction came to the forefront of his mind. But he refused to hump Byakuya’s leg like a dog.

The push of Byakuya’s palm got him out of his wishful thinking and he was practically guided back to the noble’s head. After a couple of near slobbering licks, Sousuke took in the full gear again. 

His jaw was beginning to ache though, the discomfort caused by his burning wrists and ass dwindled his own erection, which made him just want to get it over and done with.

His hurried motions influenced Byakuya altogether to push just with the slightest force against the crown of his head, yet the deep thrust into the back of his throat only caused Sousuke to try and pull off when his gag reflex kicked in. Byakuya’s palm disappeared and Sousuke retreated off of that cock with a cough that sent spittle everywhere. 

Apparently still to the noble’s liking, because Byakuya grabbed himself again by the hand to this time thrust in between his lips, in a pace that turned irregular soon enough.

Sousuke kept himself near motionless, except his opened mouth that formed an easy entrance to drive through. Byakuya would still aim deeper, but with no palm at the back of his head, Sousuke could also shift away in the slightest whenever it got too much.

When Byakuya started jerking voluntarily as well, the squelching noises of it almost drowned out Byakuya’s rapid breathing. His cock-head was now constantly wet by Sousuke’s tongue, who could now practically taste Byakuya’s incoming release.

Byakuya ultimately came with a shot that landed on the back of his tongue, which made Sousuke particularly wary of swallowing. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if he wasn’t salivating a lot by then... But he was glad anyways that the beating against his already busted lip finally quit. A few jerks got out the last drops that finished messily on his cheek, of course. 

It was done though.

Byakuya was still breathing heavily in the aftermath, but he had already long since tucked himself back in his fundoshi, with his kimono pristinely back in place. When the noble Shunpo’d behind him to fiddle at his bound wrists, Sousuke hissed at the burning that he now seemingly felt tenfold.

At last he got circulation rushing back through his own hands... 

He spit out access salvia and that thick glob of semen, but a sudden forceful yank in his hair got him looking straight into those dark grey eyes. “Who told you to spit that out?”

Too late for that, he was by no means going to lick that off of the carpet.

He was pushed forwards, enhanced by reiatsu, because he sprawled unto his stomach, in the freaking mess he had just spit out. His hands though were finally free and even though the lighting in the room wasn’t top quality, the exact spot where the obi was fastened could be seen in the fiery red indentation around his wrists.

“Keep the money.” Byakuya muttered in returning coldness before Sousuke was made aware of the other’s direction to the door.

Wait...was this a regular thing or...

“Oh, before I forget,” Byakuya glanced back. “stay away from Rukia.”

And the noble was out of the door before he could even respond.

-0-

“A party?” Sousuke questioned Kyouraku, who stood at his doorstep the next day. From the smell that wafted off of him, Sousuke could say for certain that Kyouraku had just already come back from a party. “You seem already drunk enough.” 

Kyouraku gave him an incredulous look. “Tipsy, Sousuke, what’s the point of arriving sober to a party, huh?” He supposed it was useless to debate that topic... “Quick, come on, I bought you that gorgeous kimono so you can show off after all.”

He wasn’t exactly in the mood to party. When he had looked in the mirror last night, he had been confronted with his flaming red backside, and yes, he could practically count Kuchiki’s handprints. It still burned whenever he so much as brushed against something...

“I’m not sure if I’m welcome to join the residents of the Seireitei in their fancy getups.”

He surely wouldn’t be personally invited. 

Kyouraku grinned wolfishly, “It’s not in the Seireitei.” as if he was sure that that would convince Sousuke. 

Well...

The dilemma was likely visible in his eyes because Kyouraku began taking out his money. “Four hours of your company is all I ask, after that I’ll take you back home, I promise.”

Money that was at least earned without being humiliated... He took the amount Kyouraku held out, without recounting the stack and said, “One minute.” he then closed the door to change in the flamboyant clothes.

It wouldn’t do to reveal his bruises from last night. 

\---- 

The ‘party’, was happening in a normal traditional house, in district three of South Rukongai. The ground floor was inhabited by three young women and what was presumably their grandmother, or so Sousuke thought when he had seen a glimpse of the family. They received a quick salute by the young women, which Kyouraku returned with a little too much flair, before the paper doors slid shut. 

Good, hopefully they remained downstairs. 

Sousuke was then ushered upstairs, with a push to his ass which made him practically bristle and skip a few steps to put up a distance between them.

The second floor had a couple of small tables all facing one direction, with cushions behind the surfaces. It seemed like a small setup for a show. The two sliding doors were closed so he couldn’t tell where they lead to. 

If that was supposed to be the party...

Yet, a lot of noise was coming from the floor above them.

With another nudge, this time, luckily, he could evade Kyouraku’s grabby palm, he was guided up another set of stairs.

Two young men, a middle aged one and a woman were seated around a large table low to the ground. Some form of music was already playing by what looked to be a sort of gramophone, the room was rather loud to tell in that instance what kind of music it played. 

In the air, the smoke of tobacco hung thick. And various cups and bottles proclaimed that this was indeed Kyouraku’s kind of party. They weren’t seated yet or two cups of a fiery red liquid was already pushed under their noses.

“Careful with that,” Kyouraku attested to him with a slap against his back that practically reorganised his ribcage. “it’s a killer cocktail.” Kyouraku then decided to greet his friends with the same sort of bear hug, while the lady in their company received a kiss on the lips?!

He was on Kyouraku’s heels in an instant and seated himself right next to the woman in order to steer Kyouraku, with a pull on his wrist, next to him instead.

Seating himself down was a pain in the ass though, it took him quite a bit of fidgeting before he was remotely comfortable.

Kyouraku didn’t fail to introduce him during his squirming with a grand gesture and a deep voice that caught everyone’s attention, even above the...were those blues? Sousuke guessed he could practically recognise the genre now due to Shinji.

“Aizen?” the young black haired male, at the other end of the table, with a smooth shaven face called out. “As in, the Aizen Sousuke?”

The slight slur in that voice told him that Kyouraku wasn’t the only one that had done some pre-drinking...

“I believe there is only one with my name aro-”

“The one and only.” Kyouraku intercepted loudly, only to raise his cup in a, ‘Cheers!’ kind of manner, to which no one needed any more encouragement to drink everything in one go.

Except the black haired guy that muttered a drunken, “Cool.”

This was not going to be his sort of party...that was pretty obvious.

He glanced at Kyouraku when he felt the older man staring, in fact everyone was looking at him.

Did it finally register that he was, ‘The Aizen Sousuke?’

The bearded, and oldest man at their table, who introduced himself as Akihiro, sat diagonally opposite him. He broke the silence though with a gruff, “Drink.”

Oh, he was supposed to... He glanced warily in the pure red liquid, the colour itself had his brain warning him not to take a sip. It would have to be safe though, because Kyouraku was still sitting next to him.

So with a brave throwback, he drank it all. Only to practically cough half of it back out at that pure alcoholic taste that literally burned his throat. This was far worse than the Cognac.

He ignored the roaring laughter of the rest of the table.

The woman next to him though, Sayuri, dabbed away the liquid on the collar of his kimono with a napkin she had grabbed from out of her bosom? “There you go sweetheart.”

He brushed away her...helping hand and glanced at Kyouraku, who gave him a nudge and a wink.

Really?...

“You’ve got to show him the roof, Shunsui.” Akihiro suggested, before frankly standing up and motioning them to the only other sliding door in the room that had a stairs leading up to the designated destination.

He now smartly let Kyouraku in the front.

Okay...it got him a somewhat birds-view of the third district of South Rukongai. And while a far cry from the Seireitei, the hustle and bustle around the neighbourhood seemed somewhat peaceful. Fairly large unattached, but similar houses could be seen around them. Paper lanterns hanging off of the outer walls, and at the entrances, signified shops, yet none of them held the brightly red coloured lanterns of the Inuzuri district. 

It was also a lot quieter on the streets than in his own district. Aside from some rambunctious kids, everyone seemingly respected each other’s privacy. 

Akihiro began pointing in different directions, naming each district of the Rukongai that was supposedly noticeable from their point of view. “And on a clear day, not now, it’s too cloudy,” the man slurred with a breath of pure alcohol. “you can see the Sokyoku Hill from here.”

...

One of the biggest disgraces in Soul Society’s long history.

He wasn’t sure how the man expected him to answer. Was the other giving a nod to his so called scheming on that hill regarding the Hogyoku? Because that was a false rumour, he revealed his plans there and the place where he, Gin and Tousen had been enveloped in Negation in order to flee to Hueco Mundo, yes, but his so called scheming hadn’t been done in plain sight. That would have been a little too obvious.

But the man continued, seemingly changing the subject, “I would like to rent in one of the first ten districts in the Rukongai, but it’s so expensive.” a small glance was given to Kyouraku by Akihiro, yet the Captain Commander was busy with filing his pipe with some tobacco. 

“The view alone would attract residents to this neighbourhood.” Sousuke agreed, because he had to admit it was a somewhat nice view. 

“No, not the view.” the man said with a sudden bout of sobriety. “The first ten districts are free from The Purge.”

The Purge; the restoration to fix the imbalance between Souls and Hollows that included the execution of either a number of Hollows or randomly chosen Souls was carried out throughout mostly Gotei soldiers, but even Academy students had to participate in at least one Purge to graduate.

Probably the biggest shame in Soul Society’s ‘pure’ history.

The man now definitely looked at Kyouraku, who steadfastly seemed to ignore the other’s words by concentrating on puffing his pipe and looking out into the distance.

Sousuke wanted to offer his condolences, because the tone in the man’s voice betrayed that he had suffered a great loss at one point. Yet, the hypocrisy of him having participated multiple times, under order, might give a bad taste to his apology.

Yet he knew how hard it was to lose someone, simply because Central had all authority over a Soul’s life...

He didn’t need to say anything though, because Akihiro was called back down by the rest of the partygoers beneath them.

“What a way to ruin the mood.”

He had expected Kyouraku to say something when the man left their presence, but to have him downplay Akihiro’s misery in such a blasé manner...

Kyouraku then came to stand right next to him, shoulder to shoulder, to point directly in front of them, “He forgot to point out the best spots; when the sun sets in the West, the big orange ball can be seen seemingly disappearing in that house.” It was a miracle that Kyouraku even still knew his wind-directions at that point... 

The house that was pointed out was probably the biggest one in the neighbourhood.

“And then you can see each and every lantern light up, one by one. The orange lights are seemingly given the energy of the sun, since it gives the whole district a warm glow.”

“You should have become a poet.” Sousuke answered, still partially annoyed over Kyouraku’s indifference.

When he waved away the tobacco smell of the other’s pipe, Kyouraku took a hold of his wrist. It minutely had him thinking Kyouraku had gotten a glimpse of those bruises, yet it was his face that was under current scrutiny. “Your lips are cracked.” Sousuke slightly grimaced as a rough thumb slid over the cut in his bottom lip. “Ju-chan made use of a lip balm all the time, should I bring you one next time?”

“Whatever suits you, Kyouraku-san.”

Just because Kyouraku was ‘maintaining’ him, didn’t mean that he could dictate his life.

Besides, Akihiro’s comment also made the differences between them that more noticeable. Not only their vastly contrasting backgrounds, but also their upbringing...

It relit his deep-rooted resentment towards the nobility even more. 

“Kyouraku-san, I think I’m going to head back.”

It was best, his mood was plummeting southwards fast.

“No, no...” Kyouraku disagreed with an arm that snaked around Sousuke’s middle, anchoring him literally to that broad frame. “Hardly four hours have passed, Sousuke.”

Sousuke was already reaching inside of his kimono to take out the stack, “You can get your money ba-” yet Kyouraku practically yanked his wrist from out of his clothes.

And given the sensitivity of his raw wrists, he refrained from turning it into a tug of war kind of game, that would only attract attention to it. 

“No.” The rather forceful manner in which Kyouraku refused to let him leave was a side he hadn’t seen before, except maybe on the battlefield.

‘Money can’t buy you everything,’ laid on the tip of his tongue.

Yet when Kyouraku’s pushy behaviour changed practically into a plea of, “I need you here as my company.”

The vulnerable tone in the usage of the word, ‘need’, was probably the only thing that changed his mind.

That and the fact that this spectacle with Kyouraku didn’t have to get personal, whatever their differences, Kyouraku will be forced to see the true meaning of inequality in the end. 

“Fine.”

\----

When they came back the density of the smoke in the air had gotten thicker to the point where his eyes teared in the mist. But with everyone at the table, except himself and that young black haired man, smoking, he couldn’t do much about it. The room was too small and the shutters were tightly shut.

Deciding to rectify that mistake he fiddled with one of the windows for a while before he finally managed to let in some fresh air. Not that it cleared the air immediately...

Sitting back down next to Kyouraku had him noticing his cup was already full again.

“Another round!” Kyouraku cheered which spurred on the rest.

Kyouraku offered him a sip of his cup, the porcelain was tipped against his lips along with a murmur of, “Take small sips.”

Perhaps Kyouraku should take his own advice... 

It didn’t make the taste any better though.

After that Kyouraku turned to Akihiro, they seemed to be in deep discussion about something. He couldn’t hear anything above the music, that had been turned up a few notches since coming back down. Perhaps they were settling their disagreement? Though the laughter and big smiles during their conversation made Sousuke doubt it was anything serious.

The other company at his table were reminiscing on past gatherings, which made Sousuke fade somewhat in the background.

He could have shuffled closer to Kyouraku, but that might have been too intimate, they were in public after all. 

Before he knew it though, his cup was empty. What else could he have been doing? At this rate those four hours would take forever, so it was better to get a little tipsy as well. 

“Ah, the girls are here.” one of the young men howled at a certain point, the screech of, “Then what am I?!” from Sayuri next to Sousuke made him practically deaf, if the loud music hadn’t been responsible for that already...

The girls, women actually, were the ones that he had gotten a glimpse of downstairs. All three had deep red painted lips which made him, along with the attire, think of a Geisha, yet the long slits in the kimono revealed a little too much.

Even though the clothes pretty much told him otherwise already, he still questioned Kyouraku, “We’re in an okiya?” 

But all Kyouraku did was give a dismissive wave while his gaze was trained on the ladies.

The other ignoring him wouldn’t do though. Sousuke pinched Kyouraku’s strong thigh with a hard squeeze, which just barely earned him a turn of the head from the Captain Commander. But a shake of his empty cup though, got Sousuke a big grin and Kyouraku reaching for the dangerous mix.

Kyouraku then proceeded to pour everyone’s cups to the brim and over in some cases.

That would explain the slight stickiness of the table’s surface... 

This time, Sousuke drank along to the cheer that tipped back everyone’s cup in unison. The burn was still there, but it wasn’t as bad anymore. The sharp medicinal aftertaste though was questionable... “Nothing another sip can’t wash away.” as Kyouraku had suggested.

When the music was turned up even louder, the three women started dancing some sort of practiced routine. The swooshing sound of the fans that they opened in their hands would have portrayed the start of a traditional dance, yet never would a Geisha’s routine include undressing themselves. It was a cheap strip tease, nothing else. 

He drank to wash away the tasteless display, only to be further bothered at Kyouraku’s eager enthusiasm. Tipping back the rest of his drink in pure frustration, he grabbed the bottle himself to fill up his own and Kyouraku’s cup again.

His reach over had unfortunately caused his wide kimono sleeves to reveal his red raw wrist. Nobody had caught it thought, except, there was always that one person. Sayuri passed him the bottle instead and said, “Had a rough night, huh?” the smoke that she blew into his face had him waving away the suffocating stink.

Before he hid away his wrists with a deliberate tuck on both sleeves and just smiled in response, which widened her grin. “With Shunsui?”

Sousuke’s smile vanished in an instant and he glanced in Kyouraku’s direction to see if he had heard something, yet the older man was still in a deep conversation with Akihiro and both of their gazes was simultaneously entranced by the near naked women in the front. 

He shook his head though to make the answer as inconspicuous as could be. Granted he would never pick his suitors in the Rukongai, but word spread fast in these neighbourhoods and the last thing he needed was gossip that forced him to explain himself to any of his other BloodBond victims. 

Besides, Kyouraku had wanted absolute secrecy, so that worked out.

He turned himself to Kyouraku then, and pointedly poured him a cup, which earned Sousuke Kyouraku’s gratitude in the form of a heavy arm around his shoulder that dragged him to lean into Kyouraku. He could simply move his cheek over so he was smudged into that hard hairy chest. Momentarily leaning on one of his ass cheeks though, had him unfortunately escaping that mock embrace.

It made him notice that he had spilled most of the alcohol that was left in the bottle, which wasn’t that much, but it did still instil wails of disappointment from around them. One of the dancing strippers came over to save the evening, or so she thought, since she promiscuously dipped her naked breasts in the liquid to which she then dared to shove her bosom in Kyouraku’s face.

Kyouraku didn’t seem to mind though, on the contrary...yet... she was not going to ruin his chance to a BloodBond with the Captain Commander! 

He pulled harshly on Kyouraku’s forearm, and in the other’s clear drunken state Sousuke succeeded in making the broad frame fall back.

The woman then made motions to give him the same treatment, his act was probably mistaken for jealousy, yet with a nudge of his foot into her left hip, the woman sprawled backwards on the table. Sayuri though took over from him and gave the stripper her much needed attention.

Good. 

One of the other women had taken to seating herself in between the two young men, while the last one boldly climbed into Akihiro’s lap.

He glanced back beside him at Kyouraku who had his arms behind his head and gaze directed on the woman that was furiously grinding on Akihiro.

“Can we go back to the roof?” he hastily whispered in Kyouraku’s ear.

Yet all he received was a drunken, “Huh?” as he stood up.

He needed to go upstairs to get some fresh air. The drinks were slowly beginning to make him a little lightheaded. 

When Kyouraku didn’t follow, he practically yelled the same thing in his ear. It occurred to him then, right next to the gramophone that the music was deafening. Kyouraku still gave a similar grunted response, but he pulled insistently on Kyouraku’s arm until he finally got some movement in the Captain Commander.

In the small hallway that lead to the roof, he was in the midst of explaining his reasoning, when he got physically overwhelmed as soon as Kyouraku pushed him up against one of the paper walls. His surprise was swallowed by a sloppy kiss that in his state wasn’t really all that enjoyable. It only reintroduced his tastebuds with the drink that he was actually just trying to clear from his head.

He pushed against Kyouraku’s hairy chest in a vain attempt to explain himself again, yet a large palm that squeezed his ass evoked the opposite reaction when he practically ground himself into one of Kyouraku’s invading legs. All to escape the firm grip on his ass, not that the drunken and horny Captain Commander actually took notice of his unwillingness. 

“The contract.” he reminded Kyouraku the second his lips were free, only for his neck to become the main target then. “You’re gonna expose us.” he urged with a hand in that messy ponytail, to yank Kyouraku away from sucking the life out of the skin on his neck.

When Kyouraku minutely looked back to check, -not that anyone had the time to look for them-, Sousuke took his chance and pushed his way passed Kyouraku and up the stairs.

The crisp air should have sobered him up, on the contrary though, he felt as if he just got slapped into oblivion by the night. He could hardly appreciate all of the flickering lanterns in the district when he simply collapsed due to his sudden heavy and drowsy feeling. 

Kyouraku hadn’t followed him though...that was something he did still noticed.

The couple of shots he drank had knocked him out alright. He needed to go home.

Getting back down was a chore when he was now seemingly reminded of his drunk state. And not even the scene of Kyouraku finger deep in one of the dancers could sober him up. It made him furious, but he lacked the strength at that point, mentally and physically, to remind Kyouraku of their exclusivity.

So much for the promise of taking him home as well...

With the rest of them practically busy in an orgy, he didn’t even notify them of his goodbye before he stumbled his way down two flights of stairs.

At the genkan, he could only find one of his sandals, but he was too drunk to care either way and left with only one of his shoes. He hardly even noticed the cold on his bare skin.

For some reason his journey back home turned out quite a hassle as well. When he was confronted with the South entrance gate of the Seireitei, and straight ahead, the entrance into West Rukongai, he had to walk the three districts back to the house where the party took place.

Was he that drunk that he couldn’t even orientate himself? 

Oh, but it got worse. The slight tingle inside of him that numbed him from his surroundings, turned destructive. The sharp medicinal taste came back up and it forced him to sit down suddenly to relieve himself of his dizzy and queasy state of mind. It didn’t matter that he was currently crouched near the gutter, because walking around made everything move around him and one more step would have him surely heaving all of the liquid back up...

At least the ringing inside of his ears had stopped.

Never...never again would he attend Kyouraku’s parties, he thought miserably as he tried to close his eyes in an effort to sooth the dreadful feeling in his head and in his stomach.

When some random Soul started bugging him, patting his arm, he hummed in a negative response for the other to get away from him.

Opening his eyes, he became aware of the fact that the bastard’s hands were patting him down in order to rob him. The other’s jostling of his body only erupted the need to...

The not so unthinkable happened; he threw up all over the other’s hands. It wasn’t the colour of the cocktail though...but it finally earned him some peace and quiet while the bastard’s disgust could be heard somewhere in the background. 

Well...served him right. He was too tired to care, he just needed to close his eyes for a minute or so... 

A bit later he felt another pair of hands manhandling him, but opening his eyes took the greatest effort at that point.


	10. Quits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning for this chapter is a needle? I have seen such a warning on a fic that I read for another fandom, and while the warning in this chapter isn’t connected to drug use, I guess the needle itself can be a squick as well. So caution to the readers who rather avoid the mention of a needle during Urahara’s part. 

**Chapter Ten: Quits**

The horrible taste in Sousuke’s mouth woke him up. He then registered the loud pounding behind his temples and while he tried to sooth that with a massage, he opened his eyes to bemet with the blue skies- no, he was actually met with a ceiling? Actually, that ceiling looked quite familiar.

Because it was his own. He didn’t recall arriving back home though... Straightening somewhat up, he ignored the protesting muscles in his back that apparently had endured a night on the hard cheap tatami.

Couldn’t he have rolled out his futon...

Wait, that explained it.

Grimmjow’s back was facing him, crouched on the ground, his Espada seemingly kept guard at his door...that had been torn down. Great, how many times did he need to fix that door?

With those enhanced senses, Sousuke was sure that Grimmjow must have been aware of his conscious state, yet he was not given an acknowledgeable sign.

“Did you carry me here, Grimmjow?” he needed to brush his teeth, the sourness that was probably a residue of him vomiting was just...disgusting. The smell on his clothes was even worse.

“You sure as Hell didn’t crawl here.” came the sarcastic response.

“So you did carry me, you didn’t reopen your wounds in the process, did you?”

Grimmjow looked to be wearing a grey short yukata, the kind of ensemble that would be given to patients in the Fourth division. The area around Grimmjow’s right flank had not been seeped through with blood so...

“Fuckers released me yesterday...”

And on his way back, his Espada had probably been confronted with his sorry state... 

Grimmjow promptly stood up, making the yukata end at around mid thigh. The fabric around Grimmjow’s shoulders pulled taut due to that muscled frame. “You saved me, I saved you, now we’re quits.”

Grimmjow was one of the last options he had expected to ‘rescue’ him. “Thank you.” however he was grateful anyways to be spared any further humiliation by waking up on the street with an audience. Even if Grimmjow had seen him in such a shameful display no doubt.

While he was busy thinking of an excuse, Grimmjow answered with a, “Whatever.” and left, just like that.

It was maybe best to forget that had happened, everything, including last night. To spare whatever dignity he had left. 

He reluctantly got up, even though he felt as if he had just been run over by the Janitor, and when he placed his palm on the ground, he felt something squished underneath his hand. Which turned out to be a dandelion?

Did Grimmjow bestow flowers upon him?

Oh...Grimmjow had probably mistaken the turquoise flowers as **his** gift, since it hadn’t been signed with Yoruichi’s name. 

And now Grimmjow had returned the gesture of, ‘get well soon’? How...lovely. At least it was the thought that counted.

Granted the couple of petals that were still hanging limply refusing to let go had been squished beneath his weight, but the roots that were still attached to the stems was an obvious indicator that it had been just plucked out of a nearby grass field.

Sousuke still placed what was left as symbolism in a small glass with water. It didn’t exactly resemble tasteful decoration when it basically looked like he had just stuck some weeds in a make shift vase and called it a day. Or like Grimmjow had said, ‘Grass in a pot.’ 

Oh well, it matched the atmosphere of his studio and the rest of the neighbourhood; ratchet. 

He then took a shower and basically slept the rest of the day away, while gulping down water in an attempt to purify his body from that awful cocktail.

He would never trust Kyouraku giving him any sort of cocktail anymore.

\----

The day after, he felt remotely better and was becoming hungry. Finding out he had nothing stocked except some rice, he decided to do some groceries. He even had no tea leaves left...and he needed his tea in the morning.

If only it was just that. Digging in the inner pocket of his soiled kimono, he found nothing. Absolutely nothing. His money had been stolen, of course... How could he have expected anything else...

It was going to be rice then, boiled in some broth that he had still lying around...

He also set out to fix his door until he found out that the hinges were broken off...

Great!

\----

On Wednesday his mood had bettered considerably, but he was starving. The bit of rice did nothing to fill his stomach. And while he rather didn’t want to see the two nobles that ‘maintained’ him, he was in dire need of money. Not that he would stoop so low as to seek their services voluntarily, at least not Kyouraku, he was beyond livid at Kyouraku at that moment.

He didn’t have much time to mull over that horrible Sunday though, because he needed to get to the 12th division, for his routinely reiatsu checkup. And maybe he could pester Urahara into buying him some dinner.

A good thing that the South entrance gate into the Seireitei made him completely avoid walking passed the sixth or the first division.

Around noon he already arrived at the gate of the 12th division, he had left his studio at dawn after all. Unfortunately, Urahara was at lunch break, so his hasty pace had been for naught since he could wait on the blond’s return anyways.

Trying to forget his rumbling and aching stomach, he paced the streets, deliberately near the thirteenth division. He hadn’t hoped catching a glimpse of Ichigo, since he didn’t have that luck previously either. And judging by his passed days, luck just wasn’t on his side.

Yet by some miracle, Ichigo was actually drilling his unit on the field next to the barracks.

He watched them go through the motions of lunges and mountain climbers.

Oh the prime years concerning physical condition, honed by daily repetitive drill exercises and sparring. That seemed like a long time ago for himself, it would take a while to train his body in that strong healthy condition again, especially with the lack of reiatsu. 

Even for a being with average reiryoku levels, keeping the body physically trained was a must, not only in human militaristic settings. The right balance between one’s reiatsu and the body was crucial to keep energy flowing naturally through one’s system. 

His silent lurking was noticed immediately, even though he watched them from a distance. His presence caused commotion quite easily it seemed, because the exercises were interrupted in favour of intimidating him from afar? Why some had to show of their zanpakuto skills was beyond him, most of the unit would probably never make it to a seated officer, much less, they would have never stood a chance against him, even if he hadn’t used Kyouka Suigetsu or kidou.

Ichigo demanded order again and after letting one of his seated officers take control of the drills, came to approach him.

“You’re kind of forming a distraction.” Ichigo pointed out the obvious.

“I’ve noticed.” he said calmly. “I was sort of...” while letting his eyes feast on the gleaming skin that pronounced Ichigo’s muscles, especially those pectorals that were heaving from exertion. Uniforms, or tops at least, that were discarded during such exercises was definitely a sight he missed. “...reminiscing. The strict rules while in a non-medical division can get tiresome, if not exhausting with the daily exercises between all the missions. But, it does wonders to the team spirit.”

“You worked in a team?”

“I don’t need to convince you, arrogance and selfishness aren’t exactly qualifications that would get someone into the Gotei, but yes, I did work in a team, obviously. Or I would have never made it to captaincy.”

“...” Ichigo frowned his way. “I’ve heard different sides to your story.”

“But you haven’t heard mine.” he urged lightly. “Every story has multiple sides.”

Ichigo looked back at his unit, apparently not really that interested in his part.

“Perhaps we can go out for another drink,” Ichigo glanced back at him. “and I’ll inform you then, it will still be up to you whether you believe me or not, I’m not trying to sway your opinion, you’re old and wise enough to form your own.”

Well, older... Wiser, not exactly, but seeing as Ichigo was connected to the Shiba clan, that wasn’t really a surprise, intelligence did not run in the family. Not that it mattered, on the contrary, that made it easier to persuade and mould him. 

Despite that feigned distant attitude, Ichigo still easily agreed with a shrug of his shoulders, “Sure, I’m working double shifts this week though, but the weekend is fine.”

“Well...” he chuckled, he hadn’t counted on Ichigo giving in so soon. “I’m kind of short on money right now.” how embarrassing to admit...but he refused to accept anything from Kyouraku this week. “But maybe next week?”

“It’s okay.” Ichigo accompanied his reassurance with a gesture of his hands. “I’ll pay, you did treat me last time, it’s only fair that it’s on me now.”

It might be because his ego received another brunt hit with that gratitude or because of his maturity, but having someone who was centuries younger than him, treat him... No, not even, Ichigo was simply taking the bill because he couldn’t pay for it, it was slightly humiliating. At least Ichigo was not a woman, that would have been worse.

He gave a disparaging smile, obviously forced. But Ichigo didn’t notice it when he glanced back at his unit.

When he heard the call of, “Ah Aizen-san, there you are.” he wouldn’t have minded if Urahara had taken a longer break, despite the humiliation, he did desire spending time with what would become the most crucial member to the BloodBond.

He turned his begrudging smile at Urahara who joined their conversation anyways. 

“How did it go?” Urahara asked Ichigo with a nudge of his elbow, the plastic bag that Urahara carried wafted off the faintest smell of fish. 

Sousuke got reminded of the lack of food he had for the passed days and Urahara’s pristinely white lab coat hurt his eyes. The delicious scent of the food gained him a major headache, so he was glad that attention derived from him entirely, because he was practically squinting at that point.

“How did it go?! I’ll tell you how it went,” Ichigo punched Urahara in the bicep, who overreacted with a pout and a palm covering the place where Ichigo had hit. “it exploded right into my second seat’s face! He had blisters the size of a freaking balloon. The noise attracted every Hollow in the neighbourhood, you’re lucky it wasn’t my unit’s first time in the Human World!”

Ichigo’s yelling was only nourishing the headache. Without reiatsu and food, he felt so...weak.

He took a few steady breaths.

“You might have operated it wrongly...”

“Might have?! You’re responsible for-”

When he began feeling faint as well, he promptly interrupted them. “Urahara-san, can you check my reiatsu right now?”

“You’re lucky that I have to get back to my division anyways.” Ichigo promised Urahara with a shaking fist while Urahara hid strategically behind his fan.

The glower between Urahara and Ichigo had him missing the chance of asking about their drink. Was he just supposed to walk into the thirteenth division on Saturday or Sunday? He rather headed Byakuya’s warning to stay away from Rukia, although he doubted that Byakuya’s sister worked weekend shifts. He after all didn’t want to create the sense that he was after the noble’s sister. That would be the wrong impression.

Urahara lead him into a small lab into the 12th division, and before Sousuke was even told to take a seat, he let himself drop down on the only chair around. Which was the high stool behind what was presumably Urahara’s desk.

Presumably, because he couldn’t see the surface of that desk when it was littered with documents, half finished objects and vials with certain liquids. Even the sink and burner were covered with random stuff. 

But he didn’t care about the mess at that point when he was grateful for the support underneath his quaking legs. The dim lights in the lab also did wonders to the ache behind his temples.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Urahara looking at him, just watching him for a few seconds. Urahara was perceptive, vastly more so than Ichigo at least, so his...weakness by being famished was probably visible in his behaviour. Or maybe he was just judged for his rudeness...

Urahara didn’t comment on it either way and made some room on his desk to put the reader at the ready. While Sousuke began loosening his kimono to allow the suction cups to be placed on his pressure points.

The reading itself was always silent, nor did he really feel anything, but in the midst of it, his stomach decided to pronounce its protests with a loud growl, immediately gaining Urahara’s attention with a turn of his head.

He didn’t directly look at Urahara, he saw him out of the corner of his eye and that was enough. His body was betraying him!

A beep from the machine broke Urahara’s gaze from him, but instead of instantly going for the results like previous times, Urahara went to one of the counters only to put the plastic bag that had smelled faintly like fish in front of his nose. “Here.”

Daring a glance at Urahara, he gave a small acknowledging nod before diving right in. A simple dish of kake soba, not exactly his favourite soba noodle variant, what with the fish, but famished as he was, he didn’t care and practically gulped down the leftovers.

The warmth of the broth did wonders and the noodles managed to fill his ravenous hunger. And while his dizziness ebbed away ever so slightly, his headache was very much still pounding behind his temples, but even that would pass.

He had feasted himself completely on the dish, not even a drop of the broth left, so an apology lied on the tip of his tongue when he decided to look up at Urahara. To be faced with...disappointment?

Excuse his bad manners at that point, but it had been Urahara in the first place who had offered him the meal. 

“The reader goes back at least three days.” Urahara said instead of berating him in some form.

He nodded, the device would need prior pressure indicators to compare results.

Urahara’s stare seemed to harden while he waved the result of today around with a hand gesture. “Thus the device would betray if you did anything in these passed days...” 

If he did anything in these passed days? Besides feeling sick after Kyouraku’s wonderful party and then left to starve... His distress would have been picked up by the reader, of course. He chuckled lightly and Urahara’s eyes narrowed even further.

Taking off the suction cups, he made an affirmative noise. “It were busy days...”

Urahara then shoved the reiatsu reader aside so he could grab another device from the countless of contraptions on a nearby counter. Another suction cup was none too gently plopped on the pressure point of his sternum while two metal bands connected to the device were pulled harshly over his wrists.

The marks on his wrists had healed by then, just some faint lines where his obi had been fastened, nothing directly noticeable unless one specifically scrutinised his wrists. 

He watched Urahara’s agitated reactions with a raised eyebrow. He hadn’t even explained himself or Urahara was already making up assumptions? 

“You’re just going to answer with yes or no.” Urahara took a hold of a chart that conveniently blocked his expression then as well. “Did you try to free yourself from whatever sort of seals the King of Hell placed on you?”

His reiatsu must have gone haywire to recover from his drunken escapade, but this was the sort of precaution he was treated with? He was indeed already condemned of something or another.

“I can’t break myself out of the ‘seals’ that the King of Hell placed on me.” or he would have done so before all of the humiliations.

“Yes or no, Aizen.”

“No.”

It was apparently some sort of lie detector, because the chart in Urahara’s hands lowered and he saw those blond brows furrow at the device’s reading.

“Were you summoning reiatsu to test the limits of the seals?”

Seriously?

“No.” he replied blandly while massaging his forehead.

Urahara peered at his action and deadpanned. “Are you under the influence of something?”

“No!” he replied brusquely. That was simply ludicrous. “Well...I don’t know what was in the cocktail I drank, on Sunday, but I’m quite sure that it wasn’t spiked in that sense.”

He had Urahara’s attention with that, since he derived from the polar questions as well. “What kind of cocktail?” 

“I don’t make it a habit of drinking liquor in general, so I can’t tell you the name of the drink.”

That likely dimmed Urahara’s intent to listen to him, he couldn’t blame Urahara’s returning angry stare, it was far from a credible explanation.

“You don’t know what you drank? Are you telling me you accepted a drink from a random stranger without knowing what was in it?” Urahara questioned in a tone that betrayed he thought his story to be far fetched.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I would never accept anything from a random stranger.”

“You accepted my food.” Urahara pointed out.

“You’re not a stranger.” and he had been hungry...else his pride wouldn’t have let him accept that generosity.

Urahara put the chart aside and turned around to rummage in one of his drawers.

Alright...this was turning into a full blown inspection and that all thanks to Kyouraku’s incredible idea...

When Urahara turned back to him, a couple of items were laid out on the lie detector, while a syringe was stuck between the blond’s teeth.

His left kimono sleeve was then folded up to about his bicep before a rubber band was tied around it cutting off circulation temporarily. Urahara faintly traced the artery where he was going to inject the needle, before he took the syringe out of his mouth and a second later Sousuke felt a vicious prick and blood was drawn.

Urahara kept himself busy with filling a couple of the vials before telling him, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll find out what you consumed.” 

He shrugged his head lightly, not really concerned about the results in the first place.

The strap around his arm was released once the vials were filled and put to the side while Urahara barely put pressure with a cotton swab at the point where he pricked. That hardened, almost angry expression was still visible though.

“Do you really think I would be that daft to try anything while under your weekly supervision?”

“Like I said, doesn’t matter,” Urahara said as he stepped aside to put the vials in a certain container. “I’ll find out anyways and I’ll research the proper measures just as fast.”

“Oh I have no doubt about that.” Urahara didn’t even glance back at him. “I was drunk, completely wasted on Sunday and have paid my dues for that the morning after by barfing all over myself and that in the middle of the street. I had to recover the entire next day, there, I gave you an explanation. Conclude whatever you want out of it.”

“You got drunk?”

“Yes, I did. And seeing as I’m not used to that, the aftermath was eventful to say the least.”

He received a grunted chuckle from Urahara in return.

“I’m glad my misery serves as your entertainment.”

As if Urahara hadn’t been amused enough at the cost of his dignity yet... It was about time that he turned that around, he had promised after all.

“Feel free to research my blood samples anyways.”

“Don’t worry Aizen, I wasn’t planning on taking anything you said for granted.”

That would have been groundbreaking...

But as he watched Urahara’s concentrated features, the possibility to use him as a BloodBond victim practically thrilled him already. A lifeline between them would have to be the ultimate revenge, why hadn’t he thought of that yet? 

He chuckled as well and when Urahara glanced back at him, he motioned with his cuffed wrists. “Do you need to further your search on me.”

“Your blood tests will do,” he began freeing his wrists from the bands as well as disconnecting himself with the suction cup. “you’ll be informed of the results next Wednesday.”

“Very well then.” he stood up as Urahara had already walked up to the door to let him out, but just as he was about to be ushered out of the lab, he hesitatingly took a step back.

This was getting nowhere, their banter while a magnificent fuel to propel himself into Urahara’s thoughts, would take ages to ease into something intimate. He wasn’t about to sell himself to Urahara either, luring him into a deeper connection would be that much more satisfying to break in the end.

Not that he couldn’t dangle the fruit of temptation in front of the blond though...

Connecting timidly with Urahara’s curious gaze, he took another cautionary step back before muttering, “I do...want you to check something else...” and strategically avoided looking into Urahara’s eyes afterwards to increase that curiosity.

Urahara closed the door again while nodding in an indicating manner.

“That Monday morning, due to all that drinking, I collapsed on the side of the street and lost consciousness, I can attest to being robbed, my money was gone, but...” he turned around, back facing Urahara for emphasis to increase sympathy as well. “...I felt a pain...beneath my lower back...and I think I might have been...”

He trailed blatantly off which evoked a breathed, “Aizen?” from behind him.

Turning back to face Urahara, he mustered up an obvious forced smile. “It was probably nothing...I’ll see you next Wednesday.” but before he could pass Urahara, he was stopped by a palm on his arm.

Bingo!

Steeling his emotions in pure nonchalance he confronted Urahara’s penetrating stare head on.

“A check up at the fourth division-” Urahara began and slightly pulled him back to the door.

“No.” he cut off resolutely and broke the other’s light hold. “I don’t want this to be the talk of the town. This is already shameful to tell, Urahara-san.”

“They’re discrete-”

“No.” he protested again, couldn’t Urahara understand?! “I want you to-”

“I can’t preform an anal...exam.”

“Sure you can, you studied medicine at the Academy.” which was the only sort of course available at that time that came close to Urahara’s specific interest in science.

“Aizen, I can’t.” Urahara shook his head when he gave a sure nod. “I’m employed by the 12th division, that would be a conflict of interests...not to mention highly inappropriate when I’m not qualified to do the...” Urahara motioned specifically in the direction of his groin. “I’ll accompany you to the fourth division, if you like, but you can’t ask me-”

“I’m asking **you** personally.” he pronounced. “I don’t want this to be a case, just take a swab so I’m sure that...I wasn’t assaulted.”

Urahara disconnected their gaze and sighed loudly. “Monday morning you said? That’s three days, did you take a shower in that time?”

“Yes.” he actually had been quite concerned about such a possibility himself. While he hadn’t woken up with an indicating pain, he just needed that reassurance, so of course he had scrubbed and checked for certainty under the spray then as well. He had lost consciousness in the Rukongai, while still in a remotely peaceful district, anything beyond the crime infested borders was possible. 

“Then it would be useless to do the swab, any DNA, if found at all, would be...useless.”

He deliberately walked in front of Urahara to reconnect their gaze. “...Please...” he emphasised.

“I don’t even have an anoscope here...” He kept his determined look strictly set, which evoked another exaggerated sigh before Urahara motioned at his desk. “Bend over.”

Gladly. A good thing that he could hide the hint of a smirk at that point as well.

Truth to be told, it would be his first penetrative action after a long, long time. And with the knowledge that Byakuya wasn’t going to be an attentive lover, he rather had someone else...breaking in.

Hiking up the back of his kimono and being bombarded by the cold air on his ass did instil some sort of anxiousness inside of him. The vibe was an even more professional setting than the contract with Kyouraku or adhering to Byakuya’s needs. Here he was, just bend over in the middle of a lab and Urahara settling behind him, hands gloved, some swabs set aside, along with what he presumed was a tube of lube. 

Not exactly the beginning of a trustworthy connection.

Oh well, at least he wouldn’t have to fear any sort of special kinks here, it was not like Urahara was going to shove his fist in.

He did glance behind him at that thought and while Urahara was lubing up a couple of fingers he warned, “Careful!” because that breach as he remembered was always the hardest part.

Urahara responded with an affirmative grunt. “Aizen can you...you know, open up...or hold yourself open? I don’t have an anoscope that will...” Urahara indicated with a wide spread oftwo fingers. 

He actually needed the support of his hands against the desk, more as a moral support actually. But he did put himself in this situation so... Trying to balance himself with his chest against the edge of the desk instead, he let his hands travel behind him to hold his cheeks apart.

“Okay, well at first glance there’s no tear. But, I’m still gonna have to...open you up...manually.” no sooner had Urahara told him or Sousuke did feel a finger beginning to push into him.

The stretch felt like a very medical experience due to the feeling of latex instead of pure skin, being fondled deep inside of him had always began with a slight uncomfortableness, but now he might as well have asked for a prostrate exam. At least he would have gotten something out of that.

Because the digging of those digits weren’t really trying find the right spot, they were gentle yes, but... 

And it was not like he could writhe on Urahara’s fingers and ask for more, he would lose all credibility, it wasn’t his intention to urge it into sex either anyways. He just needed some trust and sympathy from Urahara’s side so it could evolve into something deeper later on.

The fingers, finger?...therefore left him all too soon and with a quick swab it was somehow already over before he could really get into it.

How...disappointing, perhaps he had been hoping on more after all. 

“Alright.”

Straightening back up, his kimono fell back in place, and as he turned around to look at Urahara, the other was steadfastly avoiding all eye contact with him and storing away the swabs diligently. 

While this had not been Sousuke’s initial intention, he did keep himself thoroughly ‘clean’, so Urahara couldn’t have been ‘traumatised’ by anything. And he was pretty certain that it hadn’t been the first time that Urahara had dug his fingers into ass.

Yet with a subtle glance in the direction of Urahara’s crotch area, he could shush his worries, because why yes, that did have a positive affect on the blond.

Keeping his act up, he entirely ignored the action of Urahara seemingly adjusting himself, while he quietly responded with a, “Thank you for you willingness in helping me gain some reassurance.” before he willingly let himself out.

Urahara hadn’t followed him either way.

Oh well. 

-0-

On some nights the Blue Inn was packed, plenty of folk who would appreciate Shinji’s music. On some nights, the exact opposite was the case.

He could always count on his stalkers though, an audience that he actually rather didn’t want to have cheering him on.

His act had to be the shortest one yet, and although Aizen and the young man he had had a one night tumble in the sheets with, weren’t the only ones still present, the rest were damn near zombies in that doped up state so he rather called it quits earlier. 

He couldn’t even explain himself to Kiko properly or his edgy stalker was already sidling up to him at the bar. That Aizen was partially deaf and didn’t understand the meaning of personal space was a given since he had accepted the other in his division, but he didn’t feel like dealing with two stubborn creepers at the same time. 

And since it was damn near impossible to shake Aizen off his back, he rather dumped what he hoped was a somewhat sane Soul instead. 

He couldn’t count on any help from Kiko, because she set out to clear the rest of the tables...yeah typical, letting him deal with the mess. 

“Listen here,” the moment he put his arm around Kenji?...Kenjiro? and saw the big smile of contentment, he felt somewhat sorry for the guy, because here he was, breaking it off. Not that there had been something to begin with...

There had only been one person he had loved, which had been a one side love nonetheless. 

“Kenjiro,”

“It’s Taro.”

He looked at the features behind those framed glasses, contorted in offence. Not that he could blame the guy. He couldn’t even remember the other’s name...

“Yeah...It was just a one time thing, ya know, just some tumbles in the sheets, ye’re an okay guy,” except those creepy stalking habits. “but, we just don’t vibe, ya know.”

The sullen, angry look on his companion darkened and his arm was shoved off, his bar stool screeched loudly when the sheer force backed him up a couple of centimetres. “It’s him isn’t it?!”

Shinji had to do a double take when Kenji...Taro pointed behind them at Aizen, who still sat near the front.

“He’s always treating you with drinks.”

Wait what?...Aizen and him?! Okay, no more mister nice guy, he was seconds away from grabbing Taro by the front of his shirt. “Are ye fucking high or something?!” he growled, yet the only reaction he received was a puff of breath from Taro. It awfully sounded like a bull that was about to attack at any given moment. His fierce glower was then also pointed at Aizen, who seemed unbeknownst to the negative attention he received. Aizen was by then helping Kiko drag one of the high as fuck, customers out...

Actually... maybe he could use that as his excuse. 

Because scaring Taro away by engaging into another one night stand and possibly gaining another stalker quenched his thirst for a quickie quickly.

“Yeah...” he grabbed the drink that was as always waiting for him. And while it wasn’t his intention to encourage Aizen, he still raised his glass in the direction of his lifelong stalker. “Thanks babe!” he had practically barked out a form of endearment, if not spat out that sentence in pure venom.

He had also pointedly ignored any form of eye contact with Aizen and turned around, back to the bar, trying to drown his new founded lie with a big gulp of his drink in order to forget that for once and for all.

He would have finally made use of Aizen’s treat, if Taro hadn’t shoved him again, spilling the damn liquor over the front of his shirt.

“What does he have that I don’t?!” 

Jeez...had they been fucking bonded already or what? He dodged a fucking stab with a zanpakuto by avoiding beginning something with...that. He truly did attract the crazy ones didn’t he?

“Experience.”...in stalking that was. He muttered while dousing the rising fury of his Hollow, the guy wouldn’t survive his mask, that was for sure. When he was about to drink the remaining liquid, his glass was snatched out of his hand.

Another heavy puff followed before Taro finally understood it and stomped off. Seemingly, since Shinji saw out of the corner of his eye that Aizen had become the target of that...jealousy?

“I hope you two become very happy together!” what was left of his cognac was then thrown in Aizen’s face.

He snickered at the implication of Aizen once again being drenched in liquor, this time by someone else. Yet there hadn’t been enough liquid left and it just pathetically splattered to the floor instead...

“Meh.” what a lousy attack...He took a couple of nuts from out of a random bowl that had served as a snack to some wine, before glancing back. Taro’s imitation of a bull, in rutting season, continued for a couple of seconds before the man stomped out.

Seeing Aizen practically dumbfounded was still an awesome view though!

Snickering at that image, he popped a few nuts in his mouth until Kiko came back behind the bar with an indicating nod at the spectacle. 

“It’s always the crazy ones...” he shrugged. 

He watched her empty the remaining snacks such as nuts, from today’s consumptions, in the small metal storage container just behind the counter. Tasty, ‘fresh’ for tomorrow’s customers. Perhaps one of the bad skills she learned from her years of experience in the human world.

She shook her head, “Babe? Is there something you need to tell me?” she nodded at Aizen.

Shinji looked behind him at his lifelong stalker that was cleaning up the splatters on the ground with a napkin. “Nah, there ain’t anything between us. Just a quick coverup to get the creep off my back.”

“What?” she said overly sympathetic. “You mean cute edgy Taro, he wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” 

“Yeah?” he laughed under a breath. “I can feel a bruise forming from where he punched me.” not true actually.

“You bruise easily.” She teased and stuck her tongue out in emphasis.

She should have seen him when he used to train to keep his Hollow under control...he had been practically black and blue then, even with enhanced healing at his disposal. 

“Your babe is waiting for you though.”

...He almost choked on another nut he had just plopped in his mouth. Grabbing a handful of the remaining ones in the bowl, he threw them deliberately in Kiko’s direction, who dodged them professionally with a tray.

“Yeah...watch me break the poor schmuck’s heart. Our love was over before it even began.”

He ignored her disappointed, “Aww...” and stepped up to Aizen. The fucker was sitting at the table in the front again...

“Ye blind or something? We’re obviously closing up.”

“Just like that? Without even receiving an explanation from you after...” Aizen calmly waved his hand, indicating at the bunched up napkins on his table. 

“The only explanation ye can get is me throwing yer ass out.” Aizen stubbornly remained seated. “I used you in a ploy of mine, yeah how does that feel, to be used so blatantly...” 

“Heartbreaking.” Aizen said in an infuriating false sad tone.

“Thought so,” he nodded his head firmly. “now get out.”

“Rude, and that after your loving praise...”

Aizen had had enough of an explanation, was it that damn difficult to listen to him for once?! His remaining amusement after Taro was quickly being enveloped by pure frustration.

“It is barely 1o’clock, you stopped earlier tonight while I have been waiting on your performance for a whole week.”

“Yeah boohoo, see me givin’ zero fucks, now go.” he made an explicit gesture towards the door, without any result, sadly.

“Could you maybe teach me a couple of notes, since it seems futile to wait on your performances.” 

“You, learning the piano? Pftt.” he made a disbelieving sound. “Since when are you even interested in my music, or music in general?” Aizen had in more than one occasion turned down the volume of the jazz, back in the fifth division. In a clear indication that he just didn’t like it.

“Through you, I have come to appreciate jazz.”

He laughed, in what he hoped came across as mocking enough. “If you appreciate it that much, I can always fix you some lessons in the saxophone or the trombone, the real jazz instruments.” Ain’t no way that he was gonna keep himself busy with teaching Aizen...no. Nope, definitely not. 

Luck wasn’t on his side of course.

“No, I only want you.”

What with the double entendre of the whole Taro incident, Aizen’s phrase could be interpreted just as suggestively, yet he had had enough of an implication of **them**.

“Too bad, ye’re gonna have to find yer entertainment somewhere else.” 

“I have to disagree, it is quite entertaining here as well. And who knows in the wee hours of the night I might even expect a love confession from you.”

He watched Aizen’s self-satisfied smirk for a couple of seconds, before he warned in a calm tone, “I’m gonna punch you in a few seconds.”

“Is it because we are two men?” Aizen questioned seemingly curiously instead.

What? Nah, that had nothing to do with it, obviously he fucked whomever he was attracted to, be it a woman or a man. His one night stands were the living proof. “Yer just not my type, too...nerdy.” Aizen looked down at himself, probably searching that supposed nerdy style. “When I see you, I have to immediately think of you as my vice-captain, an immediate turnoff.” Shinji nodded in emphasis and shook his hands in clear distaste, trying to ground his second white lie of the night throughout gestures. 

He wasn’t gonna admit that Aizen had an attractive face. If there was one thing he learned with Taro though, it was that he shouldn’t stick his dick into crazy, it just wasn’t worth the pretty face.

Anyways their conversation was becoming quite uncomfortable and he was just about to turn around, back to the bar, when Aizen upped the uncomfortableness. 

“You are not a turnoff to me.”

Turning back to Aizen, an unintelligent, “Hah?!” came forth before he could even stop it.

“I prefer blonds.”

What?! Did he just fucking hear that right?! It wasn’t already bad enough that Aizen was looking for a truce, but now he was literally being pursued by the bane of his existence?...

He took off his flat cap to run a hand through his hair, the air in the Blue Inn was becoming a little stuffy or what?... “Yeah no shit, is that why me and Urahara received the brunt hit of your master plan?”

When it became obvious that Aizen was watching his hand motion intriguingly, Shinji shoved his flat cap back on his head. Maybe it became time that he coloured his hair.

“Yeah well, don’ get anythin’ in yer head. I was the same age as yer mother by the way, that’s freaky as Hell.” 

“My mother had me at quite a young age.” Aizen shrugged.

Yeah, he knew that, the memory of Aizen’s mother, Amaya pregnant, was not really a happy one. He had missed his chance, big time.

“Besides you don’t look that old, you age like fine wine, Hirako-san.”

And now he was saddled up with her brat, it was probably her spirit haunting him... 

Maybe that was why Aizen had a pretty face in the back of his mind, it reminded him of her...

“Get ou-” his umpteenth intent to throw Aizen out was interrupted by Kiko suddenly appearing at their table.

“I need to go, to my own babe.” she winked salaciously. “But be good here,” she wagged her finger explicitly in his direction. “don’t sex on the piano, you two, alright.”

“What?!” he yelled while Aizen’s deep chuckle only fuelled her ideas no doubt.

“You’ll lock up, right.” she replied instead and threw the keys on the table before simply turning around, leaving him alone with fucking Aizen.

“Come back here and say that to my face!” he growled at her back, but it was no use, Kiko simply waved him off.

Okay, fine, he was gonna have to throw Aizen physically out. He was about to grab the keys off of the table when...they were gone. And Aizen’s suddenly innocent expression had a 100% something to do with that.

“Give me the keys!”

But Aizen shook his head and taunted him with a big smile. “Not before you play for me one more time?”

“Give me the fucking keys, you-” he flung himself over the table to catch Aizen off guard. The glasses that flew off of the table along with his leap were thankfully empty. His action had managed to tackle Aizen out of his chair, but it also had him awkwardly landing on top of Aizen.

Coupled with their already awkward conversation and then his position on top of Aizen shook him immediately out of his intent to get the keys. He just hoisted himself up, palms digging in Aizen’s ribs to get away as fast as possible. It was a deliberate action to push himself up and simultaneously push Aizen down, but a gasp and a grimace from under him halted his escape in an instant.

He looked down, as if he was trying to make sure that he hadn’t hurt Aizen, which was ridiculous in itself, and that slight naivety played in Aizen’s favour since the bastard opened his legs so Shinji was basically trapped in that spread all of a sudden. When Aizen then fiddled with one of his suspender clasps and managed to unclasp it so the strip basically catapulted over his shoulder and sacked his slacks on one side, he literally crawled backwards, off of Aizen.

He hastily clasped everything back in place and grabbed his flat cap from where it had probably fallen off during his leap. Fleeing to his piano, he growled a, “Fine! I’ll give you what you want and then you get out!” that had worked the last time after all.

But he would be playing a short composition, very short.

He still warily kept his eyes trained on Aizen who came closer with every piano key he pressed down. He now had stage-fright for different reasons; he wasn’t afraid that Aizen would attack him out of nowhere, but maybe apprehensive that Aizen would try to touch him or something?...

What kind of mind fuck was that supposed to be?!

The bar’s keys were mid play placed on the top board, just out of reach with a stretch of his hand.

When he was done with his routine, he nodded in a way to signify the end, even though the lack of music was the biggest hint for Aizen to get out. Yet when he reached for the keys, Aizen was faster to snatch them away again.

Aizen shook his head. “It lacked the passion you normally portray, you weren’t...feeling it. The sounds were almost curt and cut off, not exactly harmonious, it sounded angry more than anything else.”

So Aizen was actually genuinely listening when he performed, wow, it sounded almost believable, almost.

“Really? An’ you have no idea why I could be angry?” Angry was only an understatement, he was fucking furious.

“I want you to play the part that you did last Friday, when I interrupted you...you were singing.”

No.

That was a whole other sort of improvisation, just something for himself and definitely nothing he would share with Aizen. Especially the singing...he wasn’t gifted in the vocal department, so the last thing he needed was to be put down over something he recently learned to enjoy.

“It’s not finished.” he said instead.

“I don’t mind.”

It wasn’t up to Aizen in the first place.

“Just go already.” there was no bite behind his tone anymore, he simply had had it with Aizen for that Friday...well early Saturday morning actually.

Aizen finally gave up after that, since the keys were placed on the top board again, and with a saluting nod, which Shinji didn’t return, Aizen finally left.

He slouched himself on the piano stool and closed the fallboard to lean both elbows on the dark wood while contemplating what just happened. 

-0-

Sousuke was actually quite content about this week’s progress. The date, well drink, with Ichigo was set and Shinji’s furiously cold attitude was thawing nicely. And that when he had almost decided to skip this Friday, because of his financial situation. Kiko had been kind enough to grant him a drink ‘on the house’ while his weekly treat to Shinji had been on her cost as well. And he had gotten some literal contact with Urahara, what could possibly still go wrong? 

Yet when he arrived at his studio, that contentment dwindled fast.

His door was still not fixed, since he lacked the money to buy new hinges, so the possibility of being robbed had been on the back of his mind, but he hadn’t expected that. The door that leaned against the doorframe was smeared with a reddish paint, the characters read, ‘Your army is as weak as you!’


	11. Daze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I started my internship and I need to work on my bachelor’s paper, so I have barely any free time. I’m therefore deciding on concentrating currently on one fiction, which will be this one. Rest be assured, my other fics will receive updates again when my bachelor paper is done with, which will be the end of June. 
> 
> A/N: Also, I said in the beginning of this story that there’s not going to be a lot of action outside of Aizen’s objection, guess what, I changed my mind, of course. There is going to be action after all, I figured with so many main characters, the focus can’t be on Aizen only. But don’t worry, the smexy goodness won’t suffer under it XD 
> 
> A/N: Warning for this chapter: Drug use, mind Urahara’s scene. 

**Chapter 11: Daze **

Back flat against the wall, Sousuke dug inside of his kimono to grab a hold of the dagger at his thigh strap. Poised to lunge at a random hidden attacker, he peered through the slats of the door.

Moonlight shining through the uneven shutters, alighted his room nicely. His clothes lay scattered on the floor and the two futon mats were haphazardly thrown out of his closet. Whomever had decided to pay him a visit had been looking for something, money likely. 

The open design of his studio gave no possibilities to go in hiding. But with the leaning door still slightly in his way, he had to shove the painted wooden surface to the side to scan his kitchen around the corner.

Utensils and small kitchen appliances joined his clothes on the floor, but not a single Soul to be seen.

Stepping cautiously inside of his flat, he made his way to the only closed off room; the bathroom. But before even deciding to barge in, he put his ear flat against the surface, trying to pick up on any sound.

His heartbeat was the only thing he could hear accelerating, the rush consuming him in an instant and renewing the dizziness he felt from the lack of any decent food the past few days. The drinks Kiko had offered and Kyouraku’s bottle of Cognac had been the only thing that had filled his stomach since that Kake Soba.

But even with a full stomach the chance that he could get any Soul, with even mediocre energy, down, was close to zero.

What were his options though? Cowering in a corner? Seeking help from Soul Society?

No doubt it would be the perfect pity card that he could wave to one of his victims of the BloodBond.

But his pride wouldn’t let him.

Despite the small resistance that he would no doubt form to his assailants, he would be giving his all.

A little self-reassurance, mentally, was all it took to wrench the door open and hold his weapon at the ready only to be met with complete darkness. With no windows in the small room, he had to flick on the lights first to actually see anything. The couple of seconds it took to lighten up the room increased the beating of his heart.

When it turned out his bathroom was equally as empty, a huge wave of relief washed over him. He felt ridiculous. Why had it managed to evoke a reaction out of him in the first place? 

Then came the shame and the dizziness increased which made him sack to the floor helplessly. 

Perhaps it was the fault of the lack of a proper diet. Yes, that must have been it. Without any proper nutrients, except alcohol, his body was weakening severely. His reiatsu had no outlet, it couldn’t strengthen his system, which would explain his lack of energy as well.

When Shinji had tackled him out of his chair, the collision had felt like a whirlwind. The wind had been knocked out of him and with Shinji’s hands digging strategically into his ribs, he had practically shown his vulnerability out in the open.

He had handled it splendidly though, but how much longer could he last like this, treading on the last portions of his energy?

It wouldn’t be smart to stay inside of his flat. But pure exhaustion made him prefer his spot on the ground, roaming around the districts now wouldn’t get him far.

A nights rest would do wonders.

Yet, there were no wonders to be found in the dead of the night.

He slept on the tatami, right next to the door, his futon would make him a little too comfortable while he could still be surprised by an ambush.

Any sound in the hallway though or anyone walking passed his door and glancing fleetingly into his flat had him wide awake. Palm firmly gripping the handle of his dagger, he practically counted the minutes until dawn.

He was also more or less nodding off at that point. It was simply futile to fight off that pure exhaustion.

Consciously he was still on guard, because the slight shuffles of footsteps behind his broken door alerted him out of his weird daze. His struggles to straighten up were anything but stealthy, his attacker was already long since aware of his presence.

So the second he heard something approach right passed his door, he lashed out, haphazardly and with no tactic due to his sleep muddled brain. His wrist got caught in a light hold, one that he should have, under normal circumstances, been able to deflect.

“Ho, ho, Sousuke, what a welcome.”

The sound of Kyouraku’s amusing tone only renewed another burst of energy and the second his wrist was released, he tried the same foolish uncoordinated swing, which only managed to increase Kyouraku’s amusement it seemed.

“So feisty.” a weak pull of Kyouraku on his palm had his quaking legs giving out easily and he was catapulted into a strong embrace. With his nose practically buried in chest hair, the strong, rich cologne should have made him dizzy, yet it was so soothing at the same time.

He was exhausted, that was obvious, because he was becoming delusional. He therefore planted his palms on that strong broad frame to push himself away. It didn’t budge Kyouraku, but he could at least look at that cheeky smile now. 

“If I could have repaired my door sooner, it would have long since been shoved inside of your face.” Sousuke said vehemently. 

Kyouraku’s eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

The crinkle of the one eye that was visible still bespoke of a jolly mood. 

Kyouraku wasn’t even faced by his exclamation and simply walked passed him inside of his room, the lights were flicked on a second later which had Sousuke squeezing his eyes shut on instinct at that blinding ferocity.

“You look miserable, the same for the state of your flat by the way.”

He squinted at the other’s observation and hoped he was still representing his discontent, because he felt like he could collapse at any second now that Kyouraku’s arms weren’t supporting him anymore.

Without waiting on an answer, Kyouraku turned the door, so the painted kanji was visible. An indicating nod silently begged for an answer.

“Vandalism.” he lied easily. The pity card would not be thrown at Kyouraku though, the older man was already supplying him with goods and money, there would be no end to his meddling anymore. “I’m not exactly popular.”

With Kyouraku then inspecting the door for certainty, Sousuke took to standing in the doorway in order to point into the hallway. “When you’re done, you know your way out.” A simple glance was all he received, but he didn’t wait further on any response, because he needed to sit down.

He practically sunk into his chair afterwards.

“It’s Saturday, Sousuke! I really enjoyed watching a piece of the play the other day, so naturally I bought two tickets.” the two tickets were proudly presented on the table which meant Kyouraku was not planning on leaving his flat any time soon.

Supporting his heavy head with a palm, Sousuke said,“I won’t be going anywhere with you,” as soon as the sentence had left his lips, Kyouraku’s amusement made way for a frown. “perhaps the lovely lady you were finger deep into can accompany you to the play?” 

The crease between Kyouraku’s eyebrows increased further. “Who?”

“She must have been quite memorable if you can’t recall her...”

For a moment Kyouraku seemed to be deep in thought as if he was trying exactly that, before he reached out to take a hold of the dandelions that had long since withered away in the small cup. “I didn’t know that you liked flowers.”

He silently watched how Kyouraku threw the ‘flowers’ in the trash, along with the greenish soiled water that was left in the cup. He then turned back to Sousuke to muse a jolly, “I’ve found a cozy tavern, good food as well.” The cup was then placed on the edge of the sink.

Food!...Exactly what his body craved desperately! But that meant putting aside his principles, he was still mad at Kyouraku for getting him drunk and then abandoning him. He refused to jump the second Kyouraku snapped his fingers, that was something Byakuya already expected of him.

Kyouraku then began casually cleaning up the ravage the ‘vandals’ had left.

Sousuke raised a brow. “By all means, act as if you’re at home.”

He received a dismissive wave in his direction. “I’ll take care of it, you can take a nap so you’re ready for our next outing.”

Lifting his heavy head from its comfortable perch on a palm, he reminded Kyouraku, “Who told you I’ll be joining you in the first place, Kyouraku-san?”

The other straightened up in an instant from his bend over position of picking up a random chopstick, “Obviously, the contract-” the utensil was then pointed at him.

Before Kyouraku could finish shrugging off what he deemed self-evident, he interrupted, “The contract? You remember that we have a contract?” he feigned a shocked gasp, along with the proper hand signal. “I was of the impression that you entirely discarded our contract last Sunday.” 

Kyouraku’s mouth opened fleetingly, before the older man placed his palms on the other end of the table so he could lean in to mutter a, “I must have been quite wasted, that night,” a rumbling chuckle followed. “Uhh...”

“You think so?” he cut off any further excuse unimpressively.

“It won’t happen again.” Kyouraku finished with a quirk of his lips.

Did Kyouraku take him for a fool? “You won’t be touching any alcohol anymore?”

“I didn’t tell you that.” Kyouraku’s single eye bored into his, that crooked smile tense now.

Sousuke broke their gaze first, his eyes were tired and that fierce sobriety in Kyouraku’s expression was practically peering into his Soul.

“Take a nap.”

He wanted to protest, but that suggestion sounded a little too welcoming at the moment. Folding his arms on top of the surface of the table he decided to close his eyes for just a second, so he could rejuvenate enough to reject Kyouraku’s offer to watch the play.

But the second he drifted off, he felt a pull on his forearm and in a moment’s notice he was trapped in Kyouraku’s sure embrace. “That’s a killer position to your back, let’s get you to bed.”

He wanted to drown in that hold, he had practically gone limp by then. His back hit the mattress and though he pushed the blanket that suddenly covered him, out of the way in order to get back up, his limbs didn’t corporate at all.

He couldn’t go to sleep, no one would enter his flat as long as Kyouraku hung around, but did he want to give that trust to Kyouraku? ‘Don’t even blink while the ‘enemy’ was around’, an unspoken rule. Yet, could Kyouraku be classified as the enemy? He was going to sleep with said enemy eventually... 

Even as he fought hard to stay awake, the questioning worries evaporated as darkness automatically took over. 

\----

Sousuke had only closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, or so it felt like, enough to recuperate some of his energy. Yet he had fell down into a deep dream of a steaming broth filled with chewy noodles and like a cherry on top, the rice cakes were practically floating around. His stomach pinched him painfully awake at the sight of a delicious bowl of Udon.

He stirred slightly, trying to blink away the haze.

Had he literally dozed off...

“I thought you could use some power right about now.”

The delicious broth had been real actually, or he had gotten to a point were he was imagining food on his table...

When he glanced at Kyouraku, he saw him storing away some groceries? And were those flowers?

He slowly straightened up to approach his meal and real or not, the steam coming off of that bowl was undeniably hot. Starved as he was though, he gulped down a spoon of the delicious broth, a burned tongue was the least of his worries, so long that the gnawing hunger disappeared. “You went to the market?” he still managed in between spoonfuls.

That meant he had been alone, sleeping, guard completely down...

“Yup! The cupboards were empty...”

At the rather obvious observation, he avoided any sort of eye contact with Kyouraku. His tactic didn’t work though, since Kyouraku’s broad frame slinked into his vision either way. “If you’re short on money...”

He desperately wanted to deny it, yet he couldn’t get the negation passed his lips. It was the truth and while he didn’t want to throw the pity card at Kyouraku, lying would only play into his disadvantage. 

“Know that you can always come to me.”

He nodded slightly, still trying his best to avoid looking fully at Kyouraku, who in his turn was doing his best to connect their gaze. But he still vaguely caught the motions of Kyouraku reaching into his kosode to take out a stack of bills, before he started counting. When he had the amount of a 120,000 yen in his hand, it was with an indicating nod placed into his reach.

Well...that made it rather hard to decline accompanying the Captain Commander to the foolish play.

He shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth in order to avoid giving any sort of gratitude, he was becoming entirely dependent on someone else to survive...

“Your door might be done by now, so I’m going to take a quick look to see if it’s finished.” with a quick wave the Captain Commander was gone.

Kyouraku’s generosity knew no boundaries while his metaphorical debt to Kyouraku only grew.

After another couple of spoons, he was practically full already, perhaps his stomach wasn’t used to the large portions anymore.

Glancing around he finally noticed that his flat was nicely cleaned up. He sighed, that generosity and Kyouraku’s overall willingness to help him further was becoming quite overwhelming.

Nonetheless he pocketed the money away, before he inspected his kitchen cupboards on what sort of groceries Kyouraku brought along, because he had seen a couple of Cognac bottles being stored away and those weren’t exactly essential goods.

Turned out nutrients still outweighed the liquor. 

He then turned towards the flowers, already presented proudly in a porcelain vase that Kyouraku had to have brought along, because that wasn’t something that he had had lying around. He swiped a thumb along one of the petals, its velvety texture couldn’t exactly be faked. A slight citrusy scent invaded his nose as he leaned in to scrutinise the flowers up close.

White roses, while devoid of any colour still managed to bring some form of lively spirit inside of his flat. Didn’t every rose colour have a meaning though, so what was the impression that Kyouraku was trying to portray with those? Maybe it wasn’t even that deep, it were just flowers.

It didn’t impress him much. Yet he did glance back a couple of times, the gesture was...charming?

He turned back to his bowl full of Udon and tried another couple of forceful bites to get something down, yet he ended up stirring into the bowl. Deciding to make use of his alone time, he laid himself back down on his futon, contemplating his sudden neediness for another while he normally needed no one at all by his side.

\----

After a quick signal of his returning presence, Kyouraku set out to fasten the door on equally as new hinges. When he was done, Kyouraku’s palm glided down the surface appreciatively. “A different material from that ramshackle old thing you had before.” Even from afar Sousuke could attest to that. “Had to be for that price, wood originated out of the North Rukon district.” 

North Rukon; where craftsmanship and manual labour prevailed, each district specialised in either fishery, farming, glassmaking, woodworking,...

Probably the only Rukon district that was praiseworthy in the eyes of the Noble district, after all, the aristocrats were too noble to dirty their precious hands throughout real labour. Not that Sousuke could disagree with that mentality.

South Rukon was in its entirety known as the entertainment district; artists, musicians and whores and let that be the district he had burrowed himself into...

At least his presence here raised questions, as a fisherman, he probably wouldn’t have been that interesting. But walk the night and his presence was more than noted. Ultimately it was pleasure that any man craved.

He glanced back at Kyouraku when the sound of the door being bashed into resounded throughout the room. The door, impressively, still completely intact without any sort of dent while Kyouraku palmed his fist fleetingly. “Reiatsu withstanding, a crafty invention inside of the surface, courtesy of the 12th division.”

“The walls, slats actually, and the shutters though are still of the same ramshackle quality.” he reminded. It might have sounded like a hint to fix the rest of his flat, but he was merely laying down the facts. His door might be secured, yet anyone could still break into his flat throughout other means.

Kyouraku reassured him though that renovations weren’t over yet, “Everything in its time.”

He was about to straighten up, but Kyouraku motioned to remain on the futon and when the pink kimono around Kyouraku’s shoulders was then shrugged off to fold over the back of a chair, the thought that it was probably time to give something back flooded into his mind.

The red haori Kyouraku was wearing followed quickly and when palms undid the large obi, the looming probability of what was required of Sousuke drew nearer and his nerves made itself known with sudden sweaty palms. He would have preferred the cover of a blanket at that point, yet he was currently seated on the duvet. 

The cheeky quirk of Kyouraku’s lips returned and still, he couldn’t draw his eyes away from the layers of clothes that were peeled away by the other. The curly dark hairs that peered out of the V of the white shitagi, a stark contrast. The white fabric followed the rest on the back of the chair, before Kyouraku, still glad in hakama, approached his seated form.

Kyouraku’s larger frame, if ever, was more than evident now.

He should be the one seducing, the one that should dangle the lure in front of his victims, and yet the two noble men that he had had the chance to get intimate with, were making him feel inexperienced and downright inadequate.

It had never been this way with Gin, even though he had bottomed as well, he had still felt in control and most of all superior.

And yet, this was different.

Kyouraku placed both of his zanpakuto next to the mat before taking place with him on the futon, squished together on a single mattress, there was barely a part of his body that wasn’t touching the man beside him. And Kyouraku radiated heat, an inviting warmth.

He blinked slightly in confusion when Kyouraku just tucked his palms underneath his head and voluntarily closed his eyes right next to him. A serenity that unconsciously portrayed a dosage of trust in him. With the other’s swords so close by, he could have easily reached over and obtained access to what was part of Kyouraku’s Soul. 

Daring another glance at the resting Captain Commander, those eyes were still closed. He could reach over and...

A foolish thought, another’s zanpakuto wouldn't adhere to him. Failure would mean building up that trust he now seemingly received.

He took a deep breath.

In comparison to Kyouraku, his body was tense with anticipation, it was ridiculous. But try as he might, feigning a relaxed posture was a lot harder than he had thought. The absurdity of the situation only agitated him when nothing further happened.

Until Kyouraku pulled on his shoulder, “Relax.” urging him to place his head on a strong arm. Not that it helped his own muscles in obeying that simple task.

“Have you ever gone stargazing?”

He turned himself on his side at the question, to catch more than a glimpse of Kyouraku’s face. The position, while forcing them even closer, was at least better for his head, there was no elbow digging into the back of his head anymore. 

“No.”

The strong expensive cologne that normally surrounded Kyouraku on their outings had faded, on bare skin a masculine musk, entirely Kyouraku, teased him.

Kyouraku’s dark grey eye opened slightly, “I owe you then.” he hummed in a murmur.

It wasn’t freezing anymore at night now that spring was approaching, but to lay down on the cold ground to search for a couple of luminous points in the sky...

He didn’t answer, until he heard a sighed, “Ju-chan loved those nights.”

Kyouraku’s brows were furrowed and his eye was fixated on the ceiling, Sousuke glanced at Kyouraku’s point of view for clarification. Probably some sort of sentimentality surrounding Ukitake. Something he couldn’t understand, because he and Gin... He had known of Gin’s loyalty or lack thereof, so getting rid off him was a relief on his part, a closure. Because Gin would have done the same to him.

And as much as he was anxious to take this with Kyouraku further, if he waited too long, Byakuya would be the one to... After such a long time, he rather would have someone he remotely trusted back, ease into him.

Besides, this was the point! The BloodBond required a deeper connection.

His heart-rate increased as he leaned over Kyouraku to seal their lips. Their breath mingled beforehand and just seconds before his lips actually touched Kyouraku’s, he hesitated once again. That single eye that zoned in on his action had him faltering completely.

An urging palm suddenly on the back of his head was the courage he lacked and managed to close those last centimetres. An innocent peck that they had shared once before.

Trying to deepen the kiss, he had to support himself with one palm on a strong torso. Kyouraku’s skin sinfully hot and the feeling of those curly hairs were coarse, beneath his hand. Lips budged beneath the slightest push of his own, angling his head properly, Sousuke tried to add tongue instead.

But that deep grey gaze managed to jitter his nerves once more, his tongue peeking slightly out, he must have been quite the sight. Sousuke didn't have much time to think about that blunder, because the palm on the back of his head glided down into the back of his kimono, the shiver that went through him at that gentle touch distracted him enough for Kyouraku to take over instead.

Lips pushed against his with a clarity that made him almost open his mouth on instinct. Kyouraku’s tongue that met his, moving, with an intent against his own, much like Kyouraku’s palm that caressed to the front of his neck. And with a thumb digging into his collarbone the hold around his neck tightened for just a second to presumably angle his head even further to the right before that strong palm loosened to return its journey to the back of his neck.

Kyouraku’s touch was sensual and strong at the same time. 

It squashed any worries that he had needlessly stuck into his head, he needed to think less.

Regaining some courage, he actively kissed back. And with every breath in between kisses he was soon the first one to connect their lips again and again, needy for that hot breath that warmed him as a whole. His nerves that had been so entangled, unwrapped with each kiss while Kyouraku’s curious palm continued to map out the skin on his back and neck.

His kimono was barely hanging on his shoulders with the strong squeezes into the fabric. 

“If not taking advantage of Starrk,” at the call of his Espada’s name, he had tried to close that topic off by interfering with his tongue, yet a firm grip at the back of his neck prevented him. “you must have surely fantasised about him.” 

A lie that he had told to catch attention had now made his breath hitch. Gin had been there to release his frustrations on, he hadn’t needed any other sort of sexual outlet, so he had rarely indulged in fantasies about someone else. He simply never had had the time for that, the Hogyoku and the Soul King, had consumed his thoughts for centuries...

He was simply deprived. 

Coulda, woulda, shoulda... Starrk had been attractive for sure, but would he have had sex with him? Someone that dominantly existed out of Hollow genes, an animal almost. Wouldn’t that be considered bestiality in some form? 

“I did.” he lied further under a breath. 

That humanoid form, an attractive one at that, did appeal for sure.

He was met by a cocky smirk, before Kyouraku swapped their positions with an easy turn of their bodies. With his back now flat against the mattress, Kyouraku was looming over him. It didn’t take long for his obi to disappear so their skin connected completely.

The angle for the kisses turned a lot deeper as his legs were urged apart so Kyouraku could take place in between them. One of Kyouraku’s palms remained stationed around his neck, merely resting, which was the support he needed when Kyouraku’s weight covered him, squishing his cock delightfully in a certain friction with every roll of Kyouraku’s hips. 

His fundoshi was more or less still restricting him and Kyouraku’s hakama needed to go. He blindingly set out to rectify that when Kyouraku broke off their lip-lock anyways to pepper kisses along his neck instead. The stubble prickled his skin, making him squirm initially until that firm grip around his neck returned.

Pleasurable goosebumps broke out on his skin as the kisses turned into nips. Until it was sure to leave marks on his throat, which was unacceptable. He squirmed again, this time to dislodge the suction on his neck, but with that palm keeping him in place, he had to reach into Kyouraku’s curly mane instead to yank his head back.

Sousuke had no time to warn the older man or Kyouraku’s lips returned to cover his, the words caught in his mouth and soon forgotten.

A hand squeezing in between their bodies momentarily took away the sweet pressure against his cock. But it didn’t take long or his nether region was bared and as soon as Kyouraku’s hand slithered back up his hip to his side, their bodies reconnected and, “Oh!” yes, that was the feeling of Kyouraku’s hard cock sliding along his.

It made him reach around Kyouraku’s middle, hands digging into his back to increase the pressure. Because that dry humping was becoming deliciously slippery in a matter of seconds.

He gripped harder at Kyouraku’s skin, pulling, squeezing, anything to ensure the back and forth motion that his cock craved. Breaking apart from another breath stealing kiss cued Kyouraku to explore downwards instead. 

The friction unfortunately decreased until it entirely disappeared when Kyouraku’s attention zoned in beneath his collarbone. The hot breath and slick tongue that passed over his nipples stimulated him as well, but not as properly as a touch on the place he craved it the most.

He tried to pull Kyouraku back up, useless of course.

But he did catch a glimpse of Kyouraku’s length, proudly protruding through the folds of his still worn hakama. And Kyouraku’s cock was as big and hard as the rest of that man. 

He shuddered when that prickly stubble came back in contact with his skin. Kyouraku mouthed over his navel, down his abdomen to nose in between his thighs.

His needy cock entirely ignored until the stubble of Kyouraku’s chin chafed along his sensitive skin when that tongue returned back to his hip. The slight contact had made him spasm and gasp.

He literally felt Kyouraku’s responding chuckle, before his legs were urged wider apart. 

Here he was eager to get it on, but, “I need to take a shower first.” it was a wonder that he could say that without stuttering when Kyouraku’s tongue continued to map out the area in between his thighs, even teasing his sac. But hygiene before any-

“No penetration today.” Kyouraku reassured him, the breathed murmur practically vibrated against the length of his cock.

No penetration today...that meant keeping Byakuya at a distance so long he had had no anal sex yet. Or he had to take measures into his own hands...

Even then, maybe it had been a one time thing with Byakuya because he hadn’t seen the noble since. And frankly, maybe their encounter was enough of a hint to look for a different victim for the BloodBond.

His fretting thoughts disappeared entirely when warm breath deliberately covered his cock. “You’re weeping, Sousuke.” the observation made him practically groan in shame until his wet tip was rubbed by a rough palm. Kyouraku’s hand then squeezed exquisitely downwards, making Sousuke’s hips reflexively push into that fist. 

Kyouraku answered his gesture by stroking slowly up and down, all the way to the base before another drop was practically squeezed out of him.

“So reactive already with just a hand job, that promises quite the sight when I do finally breach that sweet spot.”

He could barely respond besides an unintelligent moan.

The pace of those undulating movements slowed down even further while Kyouraku’s other hand caressed in between his thighs and fingers manoeuvred just so to curl around his sac to give him a nice massage. His cock throbbed wantonly and his hips arched automaticallyto drive through Kyouraku’s fist, urging a faster pace.

Which only worked counteractive when Kyouraku’s fist tightened painfully, reminding Sousuke to be patient. A slow torture, because it didn’t get him to the edge, it just reminded him of the potential of sweet release. And every time Kyouraku’s heated breath passed over his needy head, he craved the feeling of Kyouraku’s mouth finally wrapping around him. 

Yet that mouth teasingly nipped his thighs, just out of reach. If Kyouraku moved his head just a little...

He had had patience enough!

Sousuke planted a hand in that thick curly hair, still tightly fastened with a hair tie, to guide the Captain Commander to the right direction.

He felt rather than saw Kyouraku smirking when teeth grazed along his length, it had him spasming abruptly. But all was fine when Kyouraku finally granted him more than a touch where he needed it the most.

Warm heat surrounded him all of a sudden and fingers massaged his sack in accordance to the motions of Kyouraku’s mouth. If he had had doubts of Kyouraku only being known as a womaniser supreme, those doubts would have been gone in an instant, judging by the way that Kyouraku had no trouble taking him down. And that experience only increased when Kyouraku’s massaging fingers teased his perineum as well, Sousuke was voluntarily moaning out his praises by then.

The feeling of Kyouraku’s mouth, divine, and with the other’s nose practically pressed into his abdomen, his hips followed each upwards motion of that heat eagerly.

All too soon Kyouraku’s mouth disappeared entirely to seek out his own. With the other’s lips nearing, he had barely any time to avoid a lip-lock. He rather didn’t want to be met with the taste of himself, yet Kyouraku’s palm came up and held his chin between firm fingers, simultaneously forcing him in a kiss.

That weight above him, immovable.

It wasn’t that bad, Kyouraku’s tongue was skilful to the point that he forgot why he had been protesting about in the first place.

In the blink of an eye their positions were reversed and with his knees on either side of Kyouraku’s hips, the thick rod sliding along his own and in between his legs, made him want to feel the exquisiteness of being filled again.

All in due time...

His kimono was pushed off his shoulders completely before a palm returned around his neck, pushing him slowly downwards.

Face smudged into Kyouraku’s hard chest, the scent of that rich cologne faintly passed him again. He nuzzled into the fur of dark hairs, granting Kyouraku here and there a kiss. And to return the favour of being teased, he whispered his fingers over and in between a strong thigh. Muscles tensed noticeably underneath him and he couldn’t help sending his own little smirk Kyouraku’s way.

Yet the unblinking deep stare of that single eye made him grab that hefty length in a silent demand. Why should he turn it almost into a lover’s touch? It was meant to be quick and hard, so he could move on to the next and scratch off his seemingly impossible BloodBond list.

With that thought in mind, he waisted no time taking in Kyouraku’s cock, the taste and the smell extremely heady. A big difference from Byakuya, Kyouraku’s consumption of alcohol no doubt to blame. He wanted to retreat to take a deep breath, but an unforgiving hand pressing against the back of his neck, kept him in place. 

Hips raised to encourage Sousuke in taking more, but Kyouraku was a lot larger than he was used to. He gripped unto Kyouraku’s thighs immediately, trying to push himself back enough, so he could go down as far as he was comfortable.

But he slipped sometimes, the slick around Kyouraku’s cock making him ease down automatically. A good thing that Kyouraku’s palm was merely resting again, the older man seemed content in just watching him intriguingly. 

The salvia around his own cock had dried by then, but lying in between Kyouraku’s legs and servicing the Captain Commander had him continuously reaching down for a few strokes, easing up his rub down as well. And when he needed both hands again to prevent an accidental forced deep throat, he arched into Kyouraku’s leg instead for some relief of his own. 

When the grip on his neck tightened and pulled him back, Sousuke took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths and with Kyouraku’s cock still practically pressed against his lips, he deliberately let his breath warm that rod.

“You dreamt of Starrk’s cock like this?”

The deep drawl of Kyouraku sent a pleased shiver down his spine.

In the heat of the moment it was easy to dissolve the few dissimilarities between Kyouraku and Starrk, and with all respect to his deceased Espada, but at that moment, he wouldn’t have minded the thought at all.

Being used by his own Espada only increased his own need.

“Yes.” he whispered heatedly against Kyouraku’s head, before going back down again. He stopped midway, only to repeat the process up that length. He set his own pace diligently, voluntarily pleasing the Captain Commander while he was kept in place by that heavy palm on the back of his neck.

When that weight disappeared, he was pulled up easily by his shoulder, so he was straddling Kyouraku once again, palms then settled on his lower back, guiding him to lie down flat on Kyouraku so they could seal their lips again. Kyouraku’s hands though lowered even further. The grip on both of his buttocks tightened repeatedly, while Kyouraku simultaneously guided his hips to move back and forth.

The slide of their cocks against each other, the firm squeezes on his ass, it was...perfect. He practically didn’t need Kyouraku’s guide for that back and forth rhythm, the urgency that had build up inside of him steered the exact pace. It was all that he had needed after such a long time. 

His hips rutted faster and he grasped at Kyouraku’s chest for leverage as he tried to actively seek that friction. And the second one of Kyouraku’s palms left their place on his ass, instead to take both of their cocks in a tight snug, he lost it. With a choked gasp of Kyouraku’s name, he filled up that fist, while Kyouraku sealed their lips in another searing kiss.

The coiled heat inside of him had burst free and as he tried to slow it all down by dislodging Kyouraku’s grip around their need, Kyouraku continued his precise grabbing at one of his cheeks while the other milked out the last of him.

By the time that Kyouraku came with a deep groan, it had turned almost painful.

And despite still reeling from his orgasm and the rush it brought forth on his already exhausted body he still found the strength to crawl off of Kyouraku to slump down next to him on the mattress.

It was his first orgasm after many years, perhaps that is why he suddenly almost felt rather mellow. The release of tension that he had also actively sought out with Gin had been welcoming, he had forgotten the literal relieve it had brought. Pleasure was ultimately something all men craved and though he had always preached himself above the common man, since his objective had always been power, he had to admit that he could get used to giving himself over again.

He startled when he felt something wet touching his abdomen. Kyouraku had apparently gone to the bathroom to get something to wash up. He tried to take the wet cloth out of Kyouraku’s hand, yet the older man continued his journey to clean him up.

Why it felt suddenly a little too intimate, he didn’t know. His cock twitched lightly when his length was grasped to undergo the same wash up, but it wasn’t specifically his genitals being touched that made him feel somewhat awkward, it was just the general feeling of being taken care of.

Because the thing with Gin had been just sex, nothing further.

Which was why he just silently underwent Kyouraku’s touches. An experience that wasn’t exactly unwelcoming, he was just...unaccustomed to it.

Whether Kyouraku expected the same sort of action from him or not, the Captain Commander simply went back to the bathroom. It took a while before he returned, and with the water running in the background, Sousuke could be sure of Kyouraku taking care of himself in that aspect.

All too soon Kyouraku returned, still naked, bare his hakama, Kyouraku planted himself right next to him on the futon again. The sudden proximity after what had happened made Sousuke a little uncomfortable, well they had had their intimate moment, this was it.

Gin definitely hadn’t crawled back with him in bed, he wouldn’t have allowed it to happen either. 

Sousuke was then practically drawn into Kyouraku’s arms. Lying on his side and nose pressed practically under Kyouraku’s jaw, he didn’t mind the smell of sweat and the faint whiff of that strong cologne. 

It surprised him that he actually didn’t mind being pressed up against a heated Captain Commander. 

Cuddling after sex? Never. But, the thing with Gin had never been his objection to turn it into something more, while now he was required to give in and earn Kyouraku’s trust.

Nothing was said either, it was the sweet silence and the soothing drum of Kyouraku’s heartbeat beneath his palm that lulled him further into that mellow mood.

After a while, he felt rather than saw Kyouraku straightening slightly. “It’s still a couple of hours until the play starts, but we can first stop by for some food.”

That didn’t sound too bad, the exertion had definitely made some more room inside of his stomach. 

“I did tell you about the tavern I found.”

He hadn’t eaten for a couple of days and now he was simply going to receive an overdose on food...

Without even waiting on an answer, Kyouraku hauled him up like a rag doll. His limbs were still recovering from the daze his mind had slipped into. 

He had barely fastened his obi or Kyouraku was already standing with one foot into the hallway. And with the door wide open, he caught a glimpse of an orange kimono walking passed that had him remembering something.

Wait!

He had a date with Ichigo...

He hesitated physically while Kyouraku waited specifically in the doorway on him.

He had completely forgotten their rendezvous...on the other hand, he simply couldn’t refuse Kyouraku’s offer to go out with that thick wad of cash in his pocket.

Sunday was still the weekend, no one could come in between his intent to see Ichigo then.

\----

Dinner for two, their knees had been rubbing constantly against each other underneath the small table. He had eaten out on multiple occasions with Kyouraku and yet after what had happened it felt...different.

The topics during their conversation hadn’t changed drastically, the same old small talk or Kyouraku trying to hear him out.

Yet Kyouraku was just as warm and outgoing as he had always been, but that was exactly what bothered him. That natural flirty vibe wasn’t only directed at him. Waitresses received the same suave smile and endearing, ‘Sweetheart or honey’.

Not that he wanted to be called any pet name.

His mood had turned around fast either way, he hadn’t quite enjoyed dinner as he normally would.

The theatre play was held in district 22, quite a distance from Inuzuri, but they at least didn’t need to change wind directions when it was still located in South Rukongai. Standing outside between the rest of the Souls that were awaiting the start of the performance, it had gotten quite chilly.

But he refused to take Kyouraku’s Haori, the coat was extremely colourful and he could do without unnecessary attention surrounding him after his attackers. Plus the gesture itself of being warmed up by an article of clothing that wasn't his, would lead to gossip.

He hadn’t been offered the pink kimono though, that cloth remained hanging snugly around Kyouraku’s shoulders.

What was the story behind that piece of fabric anyways? In Gotei uniform or civilian clothes, Kyouraku always wore the flowery kimono any place they went. Perhaps he should ask Kyouraku as soon as he returned.

Kyouraku had gone on the search for some drinks as soon as they had found a decent spot in the middle of the audience where the stage was visible from all angles. Unfortunately for the poor schmucks that decided to stand behind the massive form of the Captain Commander, they would barely see anything of the stage. 

“They only have rice wine...” came the rumbling whine from behind him.

“I thought I told you I preferred tea.” he reminded Kyouraku when he was handed over one of the green bottles.

Kyouraku gave him a sheepish smile and scratched his beard in an obvious forced apology. “In that case...”

As soon as Kyouraku tried to take the bottle back, Sousuke tightened his grip. Least of all he wanted a repeat of last Sunday. He wouldn’t drink the alcohol, but he be dammed if he allowed Kyouraku to throw back both bottles.

It didn’t turn into a tug of war when Kyouraku nodded at the stage. “It’s starting.” 

He couldn’t exactly figure out who the Soul, that just climbed the stage, was supposed to represent. Because the glimpses that he had seen of the play last time betrayed that it was nothing more than a satire of the Quincy War.

But the Soul that stood on the stage with both arms stretched out, resembled no one that he could think of. The dark blue robe that was worn by the person was neither a Quincy uniform, nor a Shinigami one.

“Beware! Beware! For the full moon will bring a mirage of destruction and fire raging through the far East!” the person’s hands waved around as his eyes darted through the audience. “You may all still rejoice since the end is not nigh yet, you can all redeem yourself by pledging loyalty to our lord Zephyr, only he will bring peace back to these dark ages!” 

The silence that had accompanied the arrival of the Soul on the stage was broken by the hums and muttering of the audience. The strange speech and the foreign name didn’t sound like it had anything to do with, ‘Quincy daddy.’

He glanced at Kyouraku who shrugged at him in confusion after reading the back of the leaflet. “I guess it’s some sort of fore...play.” Kyouraku accompanied his words with a salacious wink. “but we had enough of that today, mhh?” 

“Well, that must be your age, Kyouraku-san, because I haven’t had nearly enough just yet.” and for good measure, he returned that juicy wink with one of his own. 

He saw Kyouraku leaning into him out of the corner of his eye, but he halted whatever sort of innuendo that would be conjured up by Kyouraku’s lucrative brain when the man on the stage was hauled off by a couple of actors. Those uniforms might have resembled the Gotei one from afar, but now that he had his gaze firmly trained to catch any details, the clothes weren't quite there yet.

“That explains it, some fool proclaiming the end is nigh.” 

The man was then practically thrown off of the stage and berated for his action.

Some fool or just plain crazy, but the man did gain a small gathering of people that were apparently interested in hearing more.

Sousuke kept glancing every now and then when the play did finally start, just to make sure that no commotion was stirred up. Call it premonition or a leftover of his service to the Gotei, but he was cautious.

Well that and the play wasn’t exactly that interesting. It was a satire, as he had imagined, and it was full of poorly made innuendos. All of the most important contributors of the Quincy army were practically turned into caricature versions of themselves, Quincy and Shinigami alike. And while everyone was equally as ridiculed with, the way in which Kyouraku was portrayed as a drunk layabout, while technically true, didn’t sit well with him.

Kyouraku though, found it just as funny as before...

Also, while Sousuke himself had been an important part of the Quincy War, he wasn’t even mentioned. Not that he was that masochistic that he craved to be made fun off, but he deserved an honourable referral of some sort at least.

At the end of the play he had hoped to return home immediately so he could finally let his exhausted body rest, yet the Captain Commander had been noticed by one of the main characters, ‘Bach’, who was simultaneously also the producer.

Bach walked up to them and apologised profusely for the distasteful manner in which the Commander of the Gotei army was made fun off. Yet as Kyouraku had responded, it was “All in good fun!”...

The subtle glances his way by the main character though was duly noted.

“Perhaps you’ll get your time to shine!” Kyouraku joked on their way back to his flat.

“You truly think I want to undergo another two hours of dirty humour?” 

A palm subtly touched his lower back. “I’ll take you to Kabuki instead next time.”

Something a lot more refined than senseless humour? He could live with that.

-0-

_A darkness, black, all consuming, much more potent than the poison of the Gift Ball Deluxe. It stoked Kisuke’s breath, seemingly all oxygen was sucked out of the air. The temperature rose, in unnatural degrees, resulting in the remaining oxygen being enveloped by the nitrogen in the atmosphere, the combination; Nitric Oxide. The poisonous gas must have been the cause of the stinging in his eyes._

_No gas, no it was liquid, it dripped...gushed down his cheeks?_

_Then he remembered; the Gift Ring that had rapidly zoned into his vision, nothing unlike a gift when it had punctured into his Cornea. It pierced both sides as if a pair of pincers had gotten a hold of his eyeballs before the metal jaws snapped shut..._

_Completely destroying his sight._

_The pain...that he now registered, he remembered vividly. A little too vividly, like a flame that burned his flesh. He could practically smell the stink of propane-_

His burner!

The haze of that nightmarish reality evaporated when it occurred that he had fiddled unconsciously with the valve on his burner. Clumsily, his trembling hands struggled to close the tiny valve. Hissing turned into slight sizzling sounds, before it was silent in his lab. Yet his hands were still shaking. His reiatsu reacted to the lasting impressions of the fight with Askin, pure energy rushing though his body.

Reaching blindingly to the side he purified the air, filling the room with a constant buzzing sound that was caused by the vents.

As he glanced up, he caught sight of his reflection in one of the glass cupboards, the scarring seemingly pronounced under his eyes. He picked with shaking fingers at the threading on his cheeks before he hastily averted his gaze from his hazy reflection to rummage in his drawers on the lookout for... 

Ripping the plastic from the syringe, he then opened the cupboard on the right to grab a specific ampule out of the dozen identical ones. Grabbing the small glass capsule in one hand, he practically plunged the syringe into the hermetic seal with his other hand. He felt a slight shiver of satisfaction going through him when the slightly translucent liquid drew into the syringe, subduing most of his violent shivers at the anticipation of pure euphoria.

He then flicked a couple of fingers against his hand, until the blue veins revealed themselves in bulging lines. The slight sting of the needle was followed quickly by an almost calming haze that tranquillised the uncontrollable shivers and his raging reiatsu.

Any image that was still stuck behind his retinas, plagued by agony, evaporated along with the liquid that was slowly being pumped into his blood stream.

His hold on the syringe slipped slightly as he startled at the opening of his door. There was only one person that had uncontrollable access to his lab though. 

“You didn’t read Friday’s report; the Dangai has an inconsistency.”

He would have wanted to drown out Mayuri’s mechanical voice, but ignoring Mayuri was a feat, even on Saturday. With his back still facing Mayuri he hummed a quick affirmation while he withdrew the syringe and shoved it under one of his many files. The ampule wouldn’t exactly attract attention when those capsules were scattered throughout his lab.

“The search on that lingering Quincy spawn has damaged the gates. We might already be surrounded again and we don’t know it yet.”

His back was still facing Mayuri, so he nodded silently. He wasn’t ashamed of his self-sufficient method, he was his own best test-subject after all. And it wasn't drugs, not really, just a stabiliser with a doze of tranquility.

“Chaos!” the booming yell registered just slightly through his haze, but he turned around at last, to see Mayuri gesturing around himself and inspecting some of his files. “It is absolute chaos in here! At least clean up your station at the end of each week!”

It was chaos in his mind, so...that fitted. Besides he oddly thrived in such an environment and this was practically his permanent home as well.

Time to derive from the state of his sanctuary. 

“Silbern is under constant surveillance,” like Hueco Mundo still was actually, all deemed as territorial victory by Soul Society. “the remaining survivors of Bach’s army are all locked up in Hell. If Bach is trying to form a new order and that in a new environment, it will be without a following. The only Quincy still freely roaming around is Ishida Uryu, and the boy does not form a threat, nor would he feel inclined to adhere to Bach’s demands.” it wouldn’t be the first time that he would have to plead for someone’s innocence. Ishida’s true intentions had been all for the good and safety of Soul Society and yet the act of obeying Bach’s orders would never be appreciated without the greatest scrutiny. Souls Society was waiting on an official apology so Ishida could get absolving in return.

It wasn’t that much different form his own situation actually.

“I...shi...da.” Mayuri pronounced each part of the name with an annoying click, clack of his long nails on a free spot on his desk. “I’m still awaiting permission to experiment on his bloodline...”

He silently watched Mayuri’s gleeful smile that was pointed at nothingness. Did Mayuri forget that Ishida was a close friend of Ichigo, and messing with one of Ichigo’s friends...well he would leave that up to Mayuri to find out.

Central likely understood and would therefore never give an official permission slip.

“Anyways, correct the idiots, that call themselves researchers, by doing your own on the Dangai.”

On Saturday? He refrained from heaving a sigh. He would much rather prefer staying in his lab.

“I expect a report in four hours!” 

His calming high was decreasing fast.

-0-

Ichigo had thought for sure that his outing with Aizen had been set on Saturday, but Aizen hadn't shown up yesterday. 

It didn’t matter, he lived in the barracks of the 13th division anyways, so he hadn’t necessarily lost his Saturday with waiting needlessly. There was always enough unfinished work still lying around at the end of the week, and with everything finished now and practically checked twice, he would be having a head start on Monday.

But, what else could he do besides waiting now?

He could change back into a jeans and t-shirt instead of his Shinigami uniform, yet that had raised some questions with the rest of the division. His human clothes had literally been the talk of the day.

When he heard a knock at his door, he turned around, finally expecting Aizen, but it had been, “Urahara-san?”

Aizen would get exactly until 2pm and that was it, he wasn’t going to keep on waiting forever...

Urahara came in with a big smile and a huge book tucked under his arm. “I see you’re also doing an all-nighter, I was just about to bring you some work for tomorrow, but since you’re here...”

Urahara gave him too much credit, he didn’t sleep at his desk, unlike his mentor though, he always seemed to be wearing a lab coat now instead of that green one. Did Urahara ever leave his lab? 

The big book was then plopped down on his desk and Ichigo caught a quick glimpse of the title; ‘The Spirit Realms throughout the ages’

And just now when he had caught up on all the rest...new assignments were already making their way back on his desk.

“The Dangai is connected with London as well, instead of only Kara-...Japan in general.” 

What? Did he hear that right? They could travel to other parts of the world? That was new. 

“That’s possible?”

“That’s the problem. London is connected to their own Spirit Realm and while we’re at peace with Reverse London, since about a millennia ago,” Urahara patted the book. “treading on someone else’s territory can break that peace quickly.”

Other parts of the world had their own Soul Society? Which was unfortunately probably a breeding ground for trouble.

“Great...and just now that we had gotten rid of Bach...”

Technically at least, since Bach wasn’t completely gone, his spirit still lingered, or so word went around.

“Don’t panic yet, a delegation consisting of the Captain Commander, and,” Urahara motioned happily at him. “the 13th division of course, will be send to London.”

“We’ll be meeting other Shinigami then?”

Urahara’s big smile turned possibly even wider. “Better, wizards and witches.”

“What?!!” That didn’t make sense...

Urahara patted the book again. “Which is why I have brought you this handy dandy history book.”

Oh great... He had to do some research.

“Or you could give me the gist of what had happened through the ages?...” when he connected their gaze to hopefully have Urahara give in to his puppy dog look, he was actually surprised with how red Urahara’s eyes seemed. Scratch that, he would offer his Sunday up on reading, his mentor needed sleep, big time!

“Fine, I’ll read up-”

Another knock on the door saved him from doing that when Aizen stood there, finally!

“Aizen-san?” Urahara questioned. “It’s not Wednesday, checking your reiatsu already won’t really be effective.”

“I’m not here for you actually...” 

“Oh?” Urahara immediately looked his way.

“Yeah...” Ichigo laughed awkwardly, he hadn’t really thought about how that must come over to someone else. But Aizen had fought against Bach as well and after the war he had even voluntarily went back to Muken. Aizen hadn’t even protested his transfer to Hell and Ichigo had seen Hell, that must have touched something in Aizen in some way or another.

The point was that Aizen wasn’t exactly the big bad anymore, his release from out of Hell could be therefore perceived as positive news? Criminals in the Human World were released daily from out of prison, solely for good behaviour. 

And if Aizen was planning something...Ichigo would shove Aizen right back into Hell, simple as that. Bach had been a whole lot worse than a deformed butterfly...

“We’re...going out to drink something.” Yeah...as soon as that had left his lips, Ichigo regretted it immediately, that didn’t come over as he had hoped it would.

Urahara’s eyes darted back towards Aizen and him in a matter of seconds. “Aha...”

“Kurosaki-san was so noble to save me from being robbed of my belongings, so naturally I gave my thank you in the form of a drink. And now as courtesy would have it, Kurosaki-san will be returning that gesture.”

Did it have to sound so...formal?

“Mhh...” Urahara answered curtly, “...One minute.” he motioned at Aizen and before Ichigo knew what was happening, Urahara was dragging him towards the hallway that lead to the courtyard of his division. “Do you really want to be alone with Aizen?”

And in the sunlight, Urahara’s eyes looked even more bloodshot, Ichigo was almost afraid that his mentor would collapse at any second. He was crap at sensing reiatsu, so he couldn’t check for certainty, but Urahara needed sleep, desperately.

“Why not?” It wasn’t like he needed to save his virtue or something... And even then, he could handle Aizen just fine.

“Aizen...” Ichigo could almost image the ‘Duh!’ at the end of that answer. “I’ll take your place.”

Wait what?! “No.” he responded frankly. Oh yeah sure, let him face Bach alone, but going out to drink something with Aizen, oh no, that was dangerous. “You’re overreacting, I can handle myself just fine, besides I think you need some sleep.”

Urahara seemed perplexed at his answer, because his mentor suddenly leaned away from him as if he finally understood the absurdity of his worries. “Right...”

“Yeah...” he nodded and motioned for Urahara to let him pass through the door again. “Can I?”

After some hesitation Urahara finally stepped aside, he still seemed a little stumped at his overreactions.

And when he was about to leave with Aizen, Urahara called back, “Aizen-san, I have your results, by the way.”

Aizen turned back just so he could look back at Urahara. “I will hear it on Wednesday.”

“Mhh.”

Ichigo had never heard Urahara respond so nonchalantly, unless there was trouble brewing. Apparently Urahara was still not a 100% certain of him being able to take care of himself in the proximity of Aizen.

Sure Aizen had quite the history here, so he could understand the cautiousness of people around him, but Aizen hadn’t wrecked Soul Society like Bach did.

“Results?” he asked as soon as they were out of his division.

“Reiatsu results...and such.” Aizen waved it off with a hand gesture. “I am under constant scrutiny, Kurosaki-san.”

That was obvious.

He had been leading them to the closest bar, but Aizen tugged on his wrist suddenly to go straight ahead instead.

“Anyways, if you don’t mind, I would like to choose the establishment, you did want to hear my story.”

He glanced at the hand around his wrist and it had Aizen letting go in an instant. Aizen was still so...touchy, even outside of the battlefield. He was glad for the sudden distance between them as they walked on, it wasn’t like they were friends... 

They walked out of the gates of the Seireitei and into West Rukon, and somewhere in district 5 Aizen halted his guide. They stood in front of some sort of apartment complex?

“I was borne here.”

He hadn’t expected a literal tour of Aizen’s history, but it was nice knowing that Aizen had grown up in a pretty decent neighbourhood.

“Not literally here, times have changed, a couple of centuries ago, this all,” Aizen motioned around them, specifically at the apartment complex. “wasn’t here. Small huts, maybe the size of half of the smallest divisions had been the standard housing at that time. Something you nowadays find in district forty and onwards.”

That still wasn’t so bad, he had visited Inoue’s dormitory two weeks ago, and it was even smaller than that.

“You grew up here with your parents?” he guessed. Some Souls weren’t even borne, as far as he understood how Souls even worked. Some humans died abruptly in the Human World, be it trough sickness or an accident, and they spawned throughout a form of reincarnation into the Rukongai?

It was...complicated. 

“My mother, I never knew my father...”

Where was she now?

The weight in Aizen’s tone kind of reminded him of that loneliness that he had once felt emitting from Aizen. Maybe Aizen just needed someone to talk to? He examined the other’s gaze that was directed firmly unto the building before them.

Aizen probably felt him staring and when their eyes connected, Aizen steered them to the nearest cafe. They took place at one of the tables on the balcony of the second floor, they had a good view of that apartment complex though. 

“Did you have a good relationship with your mother?” what else could he ask? He himself also didn't like it when random people asked about his mother, so he wanted to remain as neutral about is as possible.

Maybe he was paying too much attention to Aizen’s expressions right now, but there was a sudden sparkle in his eyes.

“I was a horrible child, a total brat, I deserved a few slaps now and then...but, she was just...too kind.”

She was... okay that was enough info on her whereabouts.

Aizen as a kid though? Well he had been borne here...but it was just so hard to imagine a small Aizen running around for some reason. 

“I don’t think any child deserves to be hit.” he countered carefully.

“You didn’t know me as a child.”

He wanted to say that every kid at some point or another could be a brat, but the waitress interrupted them to take their orders.

Of course Aizen chose tea, green tea this time, while he himself decided on what sounded like a type of milkshake. 

“I talked back constantly and didn’t listen to a word she said.”

He convulsed but could just in time hide the laugh that had tried to break through, Aizen’s explanation sounded exactly like a miniature version of the Aizen he knew... At least Aizen was aware of doing something wrong? 

“For I didn’t want to believe that I had been borne a mere peasant. At that time, Kurosaki-san, the top positions in the Gotei consisted of basically nobility alone. Gradually, equal opportunities for non-aristocrats promised spots as Seated officers and Vice-captains. So the Seireitei had been the noble district then with free entry through the streets at the time. Now you can imagine, being faced with estates that were as big as a whole Rukon district...was confronting to say the least. I was off the impression that I had to be the son of a lord, something bigger...”

“And you still do.” He had wanted to ask that as a question but it came out like an accusation instead.

The corners of Aizen’s mouth drew back into the kind of smirk that he had seen countless times.

He also didn’t receive an answer.

The waitress came back with their orders and even before he could take out his money, Aizen had already a stack of bills in his hand? Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be short on money?

And the amount seemed a little too much to have been earned in the span of a couple of days.

He watched the action of Aizen thanking and paying the waitress suddenly through different eyes. Had Aizen lied? 

_‘Do I need to make him bitch and moan a couple of tones lower...or higher?’_

He completely ignored his darker half. 

“Anyways, my respect for the nobility died abruptly when I came home one day to find my mother struggling, barely dressed, underneath one of them...”

He was struggling by then as well, between sympathy and distrust.

“She disappeared a couple of weeks later, never to be seen again. A liquidation mission of course.” Aizen shrugged and took a subtle sip of his tea.

Ichigo barely knew how to react at that point, all he wanted was to gulp down his milkshake, - it was actually some sort of bubble tea- and get back to his barracks. 


	12. Magis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m not completely keeping the Burn the Witch concept, so keep in mind that there are going to be some things completely changed to my liking to fit my fiction. Which is the same for Bleach of course, it’s not exactly canon that Aizen would go on a dick sucking hunt, how much I would even like that...XD   
A/N: Warning for this chapter: mention of drug use and mention of testing on animals. (Mind Kisuke’s scene) 

**Chapter Twelve: Magis**

While Sousuke was certain that he wasn’t being followed, nor about to be ambushed around any corner, he still took precautions by disguising himself with the hooded black cloak when he went out.

The painted exclamation on his door had been a threat, so he was in a way prepared to be attacked at any given moment.

And except a few gusts of wind that threatened to reveal his face, he kept his hood covering all of his features, outside as well as when entering a shop.

How he had been recognised either way, he couldn’t tell, but one day strolling through the market had his presence being noticed by a certain individual.

With the person walking into him, and barely granting him some sort of excuse, Sousuke would have pulled the individual back, hadn’t something been shoved inside of his palm.

Which read; ‘Same place, same time, same day.’

The back of the person’s cloak was still somewhat visible through the mass of people.

Byakuya Kuchiki.

Suddenly, there was an insistent need to take matters into his own hands. Apparently, he had to step it up another few notches. And who better than Kyouraku to help him with that?

-0-

‘Give me all of your true hate...’

Shinji scribbled the words that came to mind on an empty parchment. Mind flickering furiously back to those haunting words, _‘You are not a turnoff to me...I prefer blonds.’_

The implication...the mere implication of Aizen wanting him...

He didn’t even have to be in a particular creative mood when the thought of Aizen spooked through his mind. ‘And I’ll translate it into our bed...’...he scratched out the previous sentence with a vengeance so brass that the whole parchment broke apart.

Fucking Aizen.

The whole ordeal with Taro had left him wanting, under normal circumstances he would have been able to loose some of his frustrations on a one night stand. But the whole stalking danger of taking a stranger now permanently turned him off.

And turning back to the service of his right hand had unfortunately conjured up the wrong set of images.

It had started with a face that he remembered now only by memories, his best friend, the one that got away, yet those eyes had been so similar to... The feminine shape had changed and before he had been aware of the change he was already tugging off to...

He crumbled up the pieces of the paper and threw it with spite in the bin next to his desk. Even the smooth rhythms of the jazz in his office that had helped inspire him to write the lyrics, only irritated him now.

The mere thought of Aizen in that sense tarnished her memory, he could never. Would

never!...

It only bubbled up the pure fury from within him, he could almost see the white edges of his mask appearing. 

Consumed by spiteful anger he shoved everything off his desk, ink splattered on the ground and against the walls and papers fluttered in a disarray out of their binders. 

A meek apology that sounded from his doorway had him faced with someone that had his mind connecting to Aizen immediately, again. 

Momo Hinamori, his vice-captain now, someone who was completely psychologically ruined by the bastard. She kept her eyes low to the ground while she passed his office to get to her own quarters.

The adoration and loyalty that had once filled the promising brunette had been squashed by his previous vice-captain, an empty shell that moved under autopilot remained of her.

He could never and would never tarnish Amaya’s memory nor destroy Momo by giving in to any of Aizen’s fantasies.

It took a couple of deep breaths to begin cleaning up the mess he had made.

-0-

Shunsui beckoned his fourth seat over to stand next to him. A deep blush spread wildly on her cheeks as she shuffled carefully behind his desk. “It’s just a minor mistake, nothing that can’t be fixed.” he reassured her after opening the mission report that needed to be corrected. “The investigation mission in East Rukon should be lead by the fifth division, they’re responsible for district 40 til 80. The 11th is responsible for West Rukon, not East.”

Responsibility in terms of suspicious practices and disappearances.

“And this one,” he patted the binder that was stuffed with documents. “can return to sender.”

He only fleetingly read anything that Mayuri sent in, files that were stamped with a seal of the 12th division mostly held requests for permissions regarding an experiment. Central either approved or disapproved the scientist’s work, so he wasn't so keen on browsing through the detailed body modifications or graphic explanations.

He quickly moved on to the last stack, absolute last stack for the day since he was about to leave for the delegation after all. No more desk duty for the next two days...

Wonderful.

“And these have clerical errors; wrong kanji.”

“You wrote those documents.” He cocked his head at her and his fourth seat bowed immediately in some sort of apology. “I’m sorry Captain Commander, I’ll fix it immediately.”

Before she could disappear with the files, he held on to the stack while he was practically bent in two at her wit. Chortles escaped him at the thought that he had probably written those documents while his head had still been swimming in liquor.

Oh goodie...

Luckily it wasn’t Nanao that discovered those.

His fourth seat though seemed a little perplexed in response and was fidgeting with the sleeves of her kosode.

Insubordination caused by his staff? Never, at least not by his female workers, in fact if there was anyone ever that needed to be admonished, it was himself. And that mostly by his Nanao-chan of course.

“No worries, be a dear and fix my mess.” he snorted and practically sent her on her way with a pat on her lower back. The documents and his fourth seat disappeared rather quickly after that.

He leaned back, hands behind his head to admire the empty state of his desk. If only that was the case everyday...

Twenty minutes until he had to Shunpo in the direction of the Dangai.

He might even be able to doze off for a bit, yet the second he closed his eyes, someone had to disturb his intentions. Was he ever granted his rest?

One of his non-seated officers, that guarded the gates of the first division, barely peeked his head into his office to tell him, “Aizen Sousuke claims you would want to listen to him.”

“Aha.” he wanted to respond by stating that Aizen claimed a lot, but he knew exactly why the younger man would want to see him. Unbeknownst to his subordinates since they would rather see the opposite happen.

“We’ll force him off of our grounds, he shouldn’t set foot into the Seireitei in the first place.”

“Hold up.” he stressed with an accompanying hand signal. “Let him in.” 

A slight hint of hesitation was visible on his guard’s face, before he answered with a, “Gladly.”

Perhaps they were sure that he would berate Aizen personally for his trespassing. On the contrary, had he ever raised his voice? When the occasion called for it, certainly, but more often than not a smile and a nod of his head was enough to urge someone into a certain direction.

Jushiro had once mentioned that he simply oozed authority, which had stroked his ego, the thought of it actually still managed to buff his shoulders in self-confidence.

Someone that also wasn’t in need of some validation regarding self-confidence then entered as well. Aizen Sousuke’s crooked smile in the direction of the two guards that had lead him inside of his office, was just pure self-enjoyment for the younger man.

“Alright.” Shunsui cleared up, “You can leave us.”

Which caused the guards to balk and peer into his direction as if to make sure that he was sober enough to make such a decision. Since he wasn’t in uniform that might make his speech all the more unbelievable.

“We had an appointment.” he stressed just in case it wasn’t clear yet.

With great hesitancy he was finally allowed to be alone with Sousuke, who didn’t wait until the door closed before approaching his desk.

“Last Saturday was exquisite, Kyouraku-san.” Which was luckily said a little bit after his doors had completely closed. “But I need more.”

“Shh...” Shunsui straightened up immediately at the suggestive sound before motioning at the office next door. The door of his Vice-Captains’s office was practically always open.

Sousuke instantly turned around to rectify that.

The retreating form of that backside, glad in that lavender kimono again, put a huge smile on Shunsui’s face. 

After a quick peek into the office next door, Sousuke was about to slide the door shut or Nanao had stuck her hand already through at the last second.

“What is going on here?”

With Sousuke trying to shove the door closed anyways, it was perhaps better that he interfered.

“Man talk.” Shunsui joked instead and made it his objection to push passed Sousuke so any occasion to evoke a reaction could be avoided. And with himself standing in front of his niece, he could reassure her with a whisper of, “Private matters, it’s fine, he will be dealt with accordingly.”

Unfortunately, Nanao kept insisting that she should be present as well, so he had to use his grabby method to get her off his back.

All in good fun!

“That man!” came her screech from behind the paper slats, which still sounded a little too close, so before Sousuke could saunter his way and restart their lovely conversation, Shunsui slid open the door once again to find Nanao practically perched on her knees in order to eavesdrop.

She wisely backed off then, all the while still glaring vehemently at Sousuke.

To be certain, Shunsui steered Sousuke back to his desk first, after closing the door, before lowering his voice. “You need more...money?”

Life in the Rukongai was expensive, but Sousuke would have to be throwing his money out of the door if that was the case.

“It is not your money that I need.” Sousuke put a palm right above his hip, nudging just slightly with the intention to get him to sit down again.

Which he did, just so he could follow the split of that kimono intensively. Those beautiful legs could entrap his gaze quickly.

“It’s your cock that I need, for free.”

The words shot to his own cock while the idea behind it still managed to bring forth some doubts.

For free? The entire meaning of the contract was the business principal behind it. Shunsui didn’t want it to be for free. That was a sort of relationship that he wasn’t interested in pursuing with Sousuke.

Sandals were shuffled off before Sousuke’s bare feet were planted on Shunsui’s knees, with Sousuke sitting on the edge of his desk, Sousuke’s own knees hiked up. And the enticing spread was followed with a teasing repetition of closing and opening constantly. 

It still enraptured Shunsui’s attention completely, with or without his doubts.

Putting an end to the blatant tease, he took a hold of Sousuke’s knees, forcing them to remain wide open so he could scooch over with his chair right in between them. He also flipped the fabric of the kimono that was still stubbornly blocking Sousuke’s groin, entirely out of the way.

No underwear?

That only put a bigger smile on his face while Sousuke demurely covered his cock, the seemingly shy act then turned out to give him if possible an ever more lewd sight. Sousuke’s cock and balls were pulled up to show off his pucker that was already clenching around nothing at all. 

“And that when my presence is required somewhere else in ten minutes.” Shunsui murmured, appreciatively letting his own hand almost automatically explore the area that was offered. Stroking a thumb around the dry skin, he truly cursed Sousuke’s bad timing. 

“I assure you that you don’t need ten minutes to last, Kyouraku-san...” 

“Anyone can walk into my office and it would be a sight that hardly anyone of my subordinates would appreciate.”

The danger of losing credibility as Captain Commander was also a stark reminder to keep it pg-rated on his desk. How much he would even want to ram Sousuke down unto the surface of the wood...

“There are still the barracks...”

Stroking his thumb harder over that wrinkled flesh, he delighted in Sousuke squirming slightly.

He never took anyone with him to his barracks, let alone Sousuke. That would raise more than a few questions.

Patting the delightful ring of muscles with sure fingers one more time, he backed off. “Unfortunately, you’re going to have to wait until I’m back.”

But Sousuke was quick to respond by hooking one of his legs over his shoulder, practically squeezing him in between that spread. And while he certainly wouldn't mind shoving his face in between Sousuke’s legs, the fact that his delegation would come looking for him kept his mind out of the gutter.

“I’m ready for you, Kyouraku-san.”

As sexy as that sounded, he just couldn’t.

When Sousuke’s other foot decided to put sweet pressure against his cock, Shunsui was ready to use a Kidou bond to keep Sousuke plastered to his desk. Because those limbs were dangerous...

With a little more force he was able to free himself and with a hopefully helpful, “There’s an adult toy shop in the street we first met a couple of weeks back, you can get your fill there until I return.” he pulled himself away.

The thought at least would last him a couple of days. And without another word, he Shunpo’d out. 

-0-

Standing in the Dangai, Ichigo kept his ears and legs ready at the first sign of the Janitor. Part of his team of the thirteenth division had accompanied him on the delegation, so with a group of four soldiers, plus his captain and the captain commander, whose eyesight reached well above them, overlooking the tunnel of darkness, they moved through the narrow spaces.

“They worship the different lunar phases, so I thought to make a good impression.” Kyouraku boasted loudly throughout their track in the Dangai. 

As if Kyouraku didn’t stand out as much as he already did, what with that height, he was now dressed in a navy blue kimono decorated with white moons and stars. And true to his character, or so Ichigo had heard, his female squad members were swooning at the attention, besides Rukia. Being bombarded with Kyouraku’s knowledge of the ‘Magic World’ was apparently flattering?

From what Ichigo had come to known about Reverse London, Wing Bind was something akin to the Gotei 13, and aside from controlling the balance of Souls, they also controlled Dragons? And judging by the few pictures in the history book that Urahara had given him, none of the witches and wizards were really dressed in a flashy kimono. In fact their fashion sense was dare he say it, modern? Aside from an army green colour, everyone seemed to be able to choose their own style in regards to the uniform. 

“Typically women, they’re hoping on a promotion by fucking the Captain Commander...” Shin, third seat of his division, was known as someone who had a tunnel vision about women in the military. He didn’t bother hiding his sexism, and seemed only fuelled by Rukia’s death stare. Maybe he even did it on purpose who knew, because Shin had accepted the promotion to a third seat eagerly, and that from a female boss...

Kyouraku had been too busy conversing with the two seated female officers, to even get the gist of what was being said. But Ichigo did, and sure he was no woman, but he had grown up in the human world were women’s rights prevailed, on top of that, he had two little -not so little anymore actually- sisters and his best friends, Rukia and Inoue, did belong to that gender and he rather they were treated with respect. 

“What’s it to you anyways, pal? They’re just being friendly.” maybe one of them was buttering up the captain commander, just a little, but Kaori had always brightened up in any male company, kind of like Matsumoto actually...

“Wanna bet they’ll be laying in his futon by the end of the day.”

Ichigo wouldn’t bet on anything like that.

“If you’re jealous you can always schmooze your way into Kyouraku’s sheets yourself.” Rukia butted in for him instead.

That shut Shin up for some reason, a conflict was better avoided when they were going to end up in a complete foreign territory. And since he was aware of his own sometimes explosive personality in such instances, it was maybe for the best that Rukia had ended it in a laughing matter.

The call of Kyouraku’s name and the word sheets had gained Kyouraku’s attention though.

“What was that?” Kyouraku weaved his way to the front of their group and with an arm around his and Rukia’s shoulder, that basically pulled them down at the sudden weight, gave them an indicating nod.

“Nothing,” Rukia said with a sneer at her third seat. “we’re there.”

At the part that was supposedly leaking magic. Ichigo couldn’t really tell or feel the difference though.

Just in time anyways, since the sound of the Janitor broke the silence loudly.

Traveling through the portal itself wasn’t exactly that different either, yet the environment that they ended up in was definitely not Karakura anymore. Narrowly avoiding one of those famous red buses, Kyouraku lead the group into a certain direction.

Ichigo had seen brochures of the United Kingdom and London in itself, but had never visited any other part of the world besides Japan. He felt a little estranged from the world at large at the sight of the different architectures, old mixed in with new was never this obvious in Karakura. Yet he was probably the only one who had caught some actual glimpses of this part of the world beforehand. For the others it might be a complete culture shock. 

“They have really big houses here.” Kaori observed in awe.

The street they ended up walking out of brought them to a river, well known, but what was the name again? Geography was never really a fun subject in school, let alone the places and rivers of another city.

But he doubted that those were really houses, hotels and the parliament seemed much more likely.

“Are we going on the ferris wheel?!” sounded enthusiastically from somewhere in the back.

“No, we’re going down, not up.” Kyouraku answered.

Ichigo caught up to Kyouraku’s large footsteps. “Down? Aren’t we supposed to reach the top of one of those buildings?” he pointed at certain architectures that resembled the layout that normally supported Wing Bind.

As seen in Urahara’s history books.

“Nope.” 

Were they going to travel through phone booths then? That was a sort of gate that transported witches and wizards. As he looked around to catch sight of one of those contraptions, Kyouraku actually lead the group to the edge of the river.

“We’re first going to Central Lords, before we’ll be escorted to Queen Mary.”

“They have a Soul Queen, not a Soul King.” Rukia singsonged, particularly loud enough so Shin could hear her.

And not just a sentient being, but an actual queen, at least that was a step up from their Soul Society.

“So we’re taking a boat?” Ichigo asked as everyone descended the ladder, one at a time. Yet without looking over the edge, Ichigo could hear the sound of people splashing instead of stepping on a surface. 

The gasped, “Cold!” wasn’t exactly comforting either.

And when he peeked over the edge, it seemed like their choice of transportation had turned out to be physically swimming? He hoped that the humans here were as clueless about non-gigai wearing Shinigami as the ones in his hometown...

The sun’s beams warmed his skin, but going out for a swim had him anticipating the frigid cold. If he looked closely he might see each and everyone of them shivering already.

Couldn’t Kyouraku have advised on bringing a wetsuit?

Being the last one to enter, he stepped down the ladder one step at a time. His hakama had ridden up and he could practically feel the icy water nipping at his ankle already. The sloshing of the river’s murky water had droplets clinging to his skin, goosebumps broke out all over his body.

And right before his tabi soaked up the water, Shin’s growl of, “Enter the damn sewage water!” had him practically jumping back on the edge.

“Sewage water?!” the rest of the group were submerged in said filthy water and the sight of it had shivers running down Ichigo’s spine.

“As a human, don’t you know how drainage systems work?” 

“Of course I know!!” he yelled back.

Seriously?! He scrutinisingly inspected the water, while still standing on the top steps of the ladder. The water did look dark and what were those bits that were floating in the water?

He couldn’t find anything that looked like shit, but the mere thought... 

“Dammit Kyouraku!”

“Get into the water, boy! We need to get to the storm drains before it starts raining.”

The sun was still shining brightly...

As he lowered himself down gradually, he cursed Kyouraku all the way while getting used to the decreasing temperature, he tried hard to block his mind from all the infections and diseases that he could come in contact with. Being part of a super mix consisting of Quincy, Shinigami and Hollow genes definitely helped his raging nerves.

But that still didn’t wash away the feeling of swimming, fully clothed. His Shinigami uniform suddenly weighted a ton, although he wouldn’t divest himself of any article of clothing unlike some in his group... The mere thought that his skin was shielded from raw contact with the dirty water was everything at that moment. Which was bullshit of course.

Anyways, on to swimming. The sooner he was out of the water, the better.

He kept up a decent pace while swimming breaststroke and his mouth was kept tightly shut for fear of inhaling anything while his head was kept out of the water the entire time.

Most of the people in his group weren’t exactly practicing any sort of stroke, it made him realise that maybe not everyone knew how to properly swim. Because most were just flailing around in the water, creating gigantic waves in his face...

Great! Best mission ever!

Trying to avoid the wild swimmers, had Kyouraku warning him to stay in line, because else he would be steering off of the Magic Watering Canal? Whatever that even meant... 

At a certain point, right under the parliament? they crowded around a certain edge that had a ladder close by as well.

Couldn’t they have walked until that ladder?!!

“Hold your breath!”

When everyone suddenly ducked completely down under, Ichigo thought, ‘Fail my life!’ he had to get his face wet anyways...and his eyes open...

His sight was blurry, something he rather didn’t think too much on.

There was indeed some sort of large hole, leading into a tunnel. Shin and Yasu were currently holding open a vault door like mechanism. The mechanical lock likely couldn’t be opened by human strength, if they even saw it to begin with...

Whatever the case, he swam like mad through it.

The drain itself, covered in bricks all around, was surprisingly dry. Nothing flooded into the tunnel even though the gate was open. It was as if he had magically stepped into a void that transported him into another dimension. Was this supposed to be their version of a Dangai?

But even with the dry bricked ground underneath them, the squishy ‘splish splash’ sound of wet sandals echoed loudly through the tunnel. The feeling of wet socks was much worse...‘Ew!’ as Yuzu would say. 

Couldn’t the witches and wizards have invented a magical dryer for that as well?

On foot onwards!

Every couple of metres the bricks above them made way for an utility hole. They stopped at the cover that read, ‘Department of non-magical associations’ in romanji letters.

Wait! Had he not been paying attention, because he could have sworn that the other covers had nothing written on them.

One by one they made their way up.

Ichigo had never even set foot in the diet of Japan, so he didn’t really know what to expect of his surroundings. Except from the images on the television, and Central’s weird tower like system, what did a parliament even look like on the inside? 

Because standing in the middle of one, it seemed as if he had either stepped into a fancy hotel lobby or a prestigious private academy. Everyone that passed them was wearing suits and none of them were flying on a broom... If not for the army green colour, he would have mistaken this parliament for the human one.

Had they taken a wrong turn?

His worries disappeared when the cover of the manhole suddenly disappeared into the wood. That definitely debunked the fact that they were in a non-magical institution.

The dark brown floorboards looked expensive and with them all making a large puddle around them... Everyone that passed them was making notice of them. The mess they were making wasn’t exactly met with friendly welcoming faces...

Yasu’s half naked body though did get some interesting looks. It was only by then that Yasu started putting his uniform top back on.

Ichigo couldn’t really decide what was worse, the attention they were attracting or being the one stuck in wet clothes.

Kyouraku laughed it all off with a deep belly laugh and approached the lobby as if he owned the place. And frankly started talking in Japanese as well. 

Ichigo was prepared to be met with confused expressions at their language, he maybe even had to step in and help in his best English, yet magically they answered in...perfect Japanese?

Maybe it was just that; magic.

A certain Lord Gwydion would be expecting them?

Meanwhile Ichigo stood fidgeting between his team members, watching the buzzing crowds that passed them.

“I like the human female clothes, the skirts and those shoes...” Kaori said in awe, making a ‘click clack’ sound with her tongue, impersonating the sound of the stiletto’s on the wood.

“I feel sorry for their feet.” Rukia deadpanned.

Maybe there was even a magical solution for that, because all those heels seemed impossibly tall.

Ichigo wouldn’t admit it but he was feeling a little intimidated by the height of the witchy women. Not as bad as Shin though. “They’re dressed too provocatively.” was the Third’s seat’s answer.

“Dude.” Yasu remarked while Kyouraku questioned Shin if he had ever set foot in Inuzuri before.

One of those suited man then stopped in front of them and stretched out his hands to start mumbling in a complete foreign language, Ichigo thought they were about to be cursed for their conversation.

Shin had made a move for his zanpakuto, but he was just as soon advised against it by Kyouraku. In fact they were forbidden from showing any sign of hostility whatsoever unless the occasion called for it.

Which was not exactly comforting when the feeling of an invisible scouring brush literally scrubbed his skin raw. It took a few seconds to figure out that his clothes were suddenly dry though...

So it had been a good spell?

Not a minute later, they were finally welcomed by Lord Gwydion. His short red hair and full red beard received Ichigo a nudge and a scornful whisper of, ‘Fellow ginger head’ from Shin. All in good fun or not, a joke about his hair colour made him see red. 

Luckily for Shin, he wasn’t allowed to draw his zanpakuto, or he would have long since decked the other over the head. Shin’s blabbering mouth was becoming a little too daring.

But without even being properly introduced to Lord Gwydion, he could honestly already tell that the man seemed like a sympathetic individual when max three people were allowed to go upstairs for the negotiations. 

The captain commander, as head of the Gotei 13, was a crucial negotiator, as was the head of the 13th devision, Rukia. And with himself being vice-captain, of course he was chosen as the third person. Which meant that Shin was left behind, forced to utter his ridiculousness to the other squad members.

A selfish thought as it was, but Ichigo was completely done with the dude.

Lord Gwydion lead them passed the lobby, up the stairs. A royal green carpet decked the creaking floorboards from then on and the walls were covered in dark mahogany panelling.

Like he said, the interior of a prestigious academy.

And in the office of the Lord, the walls were littered with big paintings and all of the faces in the paintings suspiciously sported red hair. The rest of the walls were covered by ginormous bookcases.

With a wave of Gwydion’s hand, an extra chair was magically shoved in between the cozy looking fauteuils in front of his desk. Magic seemed to originate from within their palms? So no magic wands?

Kyouraku was also the first one to take a seat, without being even verbally offered a chair. When Rukia followed quickly, Ichigo was stuck on the hard wooden chair in between the cushiony ones. 

“Yamamoto? Right?” Gwydion guessed casually.

Kyouraku wasn’t the only one that had laughed at that presumption. Hadn’t it been a millennia ago that the last delegation here had took place? Yamamoto probably did sport a much more youthful look then, or Kyouraku looked a lot older than he was.

Ichigo actually did take the time to glance at Kyouraku. What was considered old anyways in Shinigami terms?

“No, that would be my predecessor. We unfortunately lost Yamamoto during the Quincy war, you did receive a full report about the Quincy war if I’m not mistaken?”

“We did.” answered Gwydion somewhat forcedly, Ichigo could practically see the other’s jaw tightening.

Reading about Bach’s crimes was one thing, undergoing the war a whole other.

“And this is Kuchiki Rukia, captain of the 13th division.”

“Kuchiki.” Gwydion nodded appreciatively. “A well respected family.”

A well respected? Except certain rules that were complete bullshit...

Rukia’s cheeks went red immediately at the appraisal though. 

The Kuchiki clan was probably more than a millennia old, Ginrei had definitely looked the part.

“And this is Kurosa-...Shiba Ichigo.”

And suddenly Ichigo felt as if he was held under a magnifying glass, because Gwydion’s eyes zoned completely on him.

“Shiba...I might have heard of the...family.”

Might have not been good news then, since the clan had fallen down from grace.

When he looked anywhere but Gwydion’s analysing eyes, Ichigo actually caught sight of the name plates underneath the row of paintings. They all had the name ‘Hastings’. ‘Gwydion Hastings’ was the last one. 

So the Lord title was definitely given from father upon son it seemed.

“Now I remember why your name is so familiar, you have defeated the threats that Soul Society, East Branch, has dealt with.”

Ichigo’s eyes flickered from Gwydion’s painting to the man himself. “That is to say-” Ishida helped him big time with the Still Silver! 

Yet Kyouraku interrupted his response by giving him a -hard- congratulatory pat on the back.

“The boy is the best thing that has happened to the Seireitei.”

Boy?! He was a man! By Human standards at least...

“Mhh...yes well,” Gwydion’s tone betrayed he wasn’t of the same opinion. “and Silbern has most likely been claimed as spoils of war, the same for Hueco Mundo or so we heard...”

Yeah in that sense, Soul Society did seem to be gaining territory quickly and that all since he was introduced to his Shinigami/Quincy/Hollow life. Ichigo had to admit that it sounded tricky. 

Wait, knowing his luck, hopefully this didn’t mean that he had a long lost family relative as a wizard as well... The only magic tricks he could do though originated out of kid toy boxes.

“Besides the reports, I’m not above going over recent events in person. Perhaps that can diminish your distrust.” Kyouraku offered.

“Not my distrust, but our Queen’s distrust. I will try my best to convince Queen Mary based on your stories here.” Gwydion intercepted a lot less sympathetically.

Kyouraku glanced their way and Ichigo could see Rukia shrugging out of the corner of his eye. “Well, it is going to be a long story...”

They hadn’t been offered anything to drink the entire time, much to Kyouraku’s chagrin. And at the end of it, they were simply dismissed in light of Gwydion persisting that he had to have a talk with his fellow lords before enlightening the Queen.

Ichigo somehow felt trouble brewing.

And without further ado, they were lead back out of the office and down into the lobby where Gwydion recommended a hotel just down the street. A paper of said recommendation and their reservation was conjured seemingly out of nowhere.

What was funny was that their reservation was written out entirely in English, yet when he looked twice, the Romanji slowly morphed into kanji. 

He might be making up things but it felt as if their stay was indirectly forced at exactly that accommodation. And while they didn’t receive a curfew, nor were they forbidden from exploring Reverse London, Gwydion did make it clear that as long as the negotiations weren’t fully approved, that caution still needed to be practiced, preferably with staying inside of their hotel. 

Outside, Ichigo would have expected to step back into urban London life, maybe back into the sewers, but no, they walked right into a large well maintained garden. But going down the steps to follow the path, both sides were obstructed by a maze of bushes.

Coincidence, much.

“Aerwyna Asteria.” Yasu tried the foreign name carefully that was engraved on one of the dozen human sculptures along their way. “I presume a famous witch or wizard.”

“What the Hell are we supposed to do until we see the Queen?” Shin complained.

Ichigo could have rolled his eyes at the whine in that tone.

“Get drunk.” Kyouraku suggested a little too enthusiastically. “Every hotel has a bar.”

Was drinking liquor really a priority now?

“In foreign territory, that doesn’t seem smart, captain commander.” Rukia took the words right out of Ichigo’s mouth. 

“Then you probably won’t like my second idea.” Kyouraku responded with a wide smirk. Rukia’s mouth opened, probably to warn Kyouraku in advance, but the captain commander went on, “Spending time with some lovely escorts that could show off the beautiful sights of reverse London.”

“Beautiful places or beautiful ladies?” Yasu questioned eagerly to which half of the group laughed in unison at the suggestion. 

Ichigo was glad the end of the maze was in sight. And it lead right into their hotel, if that wasn’t a setup...

No, remaining sober and staying inside of the hotel would be their priority for now. 

-0-

As Kisuke approached the metal double fireproof gates of Mayuri’s lair, he had to suddenly dodge the hurried steps of a mad Kenpachi that stomped out of the opened headquarters. Curses that suspiciously sounded like Mayuri’s name grumbled under Kenpachi’s breath. That glorious raging temper didn’t spell anything good coming from Mayuri either. 

The 11th division’s wild and drunk parties were wildly known, but Kisuke hardly doubted that Kenpachi had stumbled in a drunken stupor inside of the 12th. The S.R.D.I’s massive grounds could hardly be mistaken for the dojo of the 11th, drunk or not.

Mayuri’s masked face glowing under the fluorescent lights didn’t reveal anything of whatever had made Kenpachi storm out of his office. “Don’t stand there like a bumbling idiot, come forth!” 

Ever his pleasant self, Mayuri’s mechanical voice sounded shrill in the background of the buzzing tanks. 

“The Hollow Rabbits reacted positively to ‘_Zophidol_’, all side affects to ‘_Metalidon_’ reduced significantly in 70% of the cases.”

Genomes of Hollow Rabbits were surprisingly similar to Shinigami, which made Hollow Rabbits the number one testing animals. After significant testing results, a report would then be sent to Central and they would either give their approval for further testing. And with Central’s validation came the next phase, which would be sending the reports along with the first set of medications over to the Fourth division, where it would be gradually tested on real patients.

Mayuri motioned in the direction of the stack that was stamped with the red ink of Central’s validation.

Was Kisuke supposed to sent it off? Wasn’t that Akon’s responsibility as vice-captain?

“Read!” Mayuri griped in between yellow teeth.

While Kisuke wasn’t entirely involved in the testing department, he knew the gist of it. ‘_Metalidon_’; a reiatsu stabiliser for those who suffered from permanently damaged pressure systems or fluctuating pressure systems, unfortunately suffered a lot of side-affects from taking the medication, including insomnia, paranoia and anxiety. ‘_Zophidol_’, would be the stabiliser to that. 

But when he read through the documents, it became clear that Central gave their permission specifically to the 12th division?

“We’re testing?” 

Mayuri’s creepy smile enlarged even more. “Correction, you are testing.”

The whole point of delegating the actual testing on real patients towards the Fourth division, was to avoid giving Mayuri free range in torturing unwilling Souls. Purges had been Mayuri’s field days, since it had been the opportunity to acquire test-subjects. It didn’t matter if they perished when those Souls had been destined to die in the Purge either way.

Testing on Souls should only be allowed to be done by the Fourth division.

“Don’t act like a beaten dog! They are volunteers! They offered themselves up!”

“And you can give me the correct definition of volunteering?” he asked carefully.

“They are drug addicts, they would love nothing more than free drugs.” Mayuri’s face had been fixated on his screen at that moment, for which Kisuke was thankful for.

And he was the chosen one to lead the tests? Suddenly the idea of being involved into this department, turned him off completely.

Why did it feel a little too confronting?

They had offered themselves up to be Mayuri’s guinea pig...

But the mere idea of them being drug addicts bothered him majorly. Was it perhaps becoming too close to home? 

No, bullocks. He was no addict. It was a self-sufficient method to recover from his nightmares and panic attacks, nothing more, nothing less.

“Are they here?”

“Of course, they’re in the basement, cellblock 24-45. We’re starting testing in two weeks, I let them go Cold Turkey, whatever was in their system needs to be gone before we start.”

He reluctantly took the stack of documents with him to his lab. 

On the way over, he saw the silhouette of Aizen through the blurred glass panes and felt a heavy sigh bubbling up before he even came in direct contact with Aizen. Of course, it was Wednesday. 

Struggling to control the beating of his heart and the stammer of his reiatsu, he stepped into the waiting room. With barely a nod in the direction of his lab, the two guards allowed Aizen free access into the halls of the 12th. 

He first set aside his documents before he wanted to take a seat, his nerves much preferred some stability underneath him, but when he turned around Aizen had already taken his seat. In fact, sleeves pulled up, Aizen seemed ready for the reiatsu reader, it was a routine after all.

“You weren’t assaulted.” Kisuke blurted out before he even had the evidence in his hands. Where had he put those results anyways? Having felt betrayed by Aizen he had blatantly shoved them aside somewhere... 

He heard a breath of relief coming from Aizen, “That is at least one worry less, thank you for decreasing that anxiety.” 

He refused to respond.

Was Aizen even capable of feeling anxiety? He certainly hadn’t looked anxious on Sunday with Ichigo. 

“What was the nature of your drink with Kurosaki-san?” he didn’t glance at Aizen when he was still fervently looking for the results...

“A drink.” Aizen said. “Simple as that.”

He dared a glimpse at Aizen, whose eyes were fixated on his busy search. “You’re not going to corrupt my student, I won’t let you...” _ruin him like you did with me._

Aizen’s eyes connected with him, the epitome of innocence blinked back at him.

Aizen had managed to unearth a flurry of emotions inside of him that he hadn’t known were hidden deep within him. And the last thing Ichigo needed was a tainted morality, the Quincy war had done enough damage as it was.

“It was merely a drink, Urahara-san. Perhaps you would like to join us next time? Or if you rather take me out alone...”

It was better not to give Aizen any sort of confirmation, even though that suggestion did linger into his mind.

Maybe changing the subject was a far better approach.

“As for your drink, it was spiked. Nothing deadly though, just something that increases the potency of alcohol in those with a pressure system above average. Your reiatsu is locked though, so I advise caution with such drinks in the future.”

There, that was the general gist of it, he stopped his fruitless search, Aizen didn’t need proof, he just needed to take his word for it.

And when he just stood there, contemplating Aizen’s intentions with Ichigo, Aizen averted his focus with a wave of those bare arms.

Right. The reiatsu reader.

The silence during the reader was just...unpleasant. All he wanted was to interrogate Aizen further on his outing with Ichigo.

The idea that someone he mentored was possibly being corrupted and set up against him was eating at him. He wouldn’t allow Aizen the pleasure of walking that path.

So even a slight raise in Aizen’s spiritual pressure was now enough to set off an endless swirl of criminal possibilities. 

He ripped the reader’s results from the contraption to push it underneath Aizen’s nose. “What did you do on Saturday, 13:43PM?”

“Saturday?” Aizen repeated while seemingly in thought. Then those doe like eyes widened before a couple of chuckles came forth. “Really, Urahara-san? Just ask me already.”

Was Aizen treating this as a joke? “Answer truthfully, Aizen. What did you do-”

“I was pleasuring myself.”

He had to take double notice before the words finally processed.

“What?”

Aizen’s leering gaze was a little too predatorily...

He re-examined the results and with that knowledge in mind, the peak that Aizen’s reiatsu made at a certain interval did seem to take on the timespan of a burst of...

Looking back at Aizen, he kept his own face as neutral as possible.

“If you want, we can always test that theory? If you need exact proof I might as well do it on the spot...” Aizen then took off the reiatsu reading cuffs, only to fold his palms on his lap.

And Kisuke’s eyes followed the gesture to Aizen’s groin diligently. “No.” he managed to answer without a stammer. “It’s...fine.”

The image of Aizen bending over on his desk, hips canted up to reveal that ass in full glory was still fresh in his mind. As well as the warmth his fingers had burrowed into.

He had truly applauded himself on the level of professionalism that he had managed to portray. But he wasn’t asking for a repeat, because he didn’t know how long he would be able to keep that professional distance. 

It was best to steer off into another subject altogether. A subject that decreased his sudden warm temperature. “What sort of relationship do you and Kyouraku have?”

The ghost of a smile teased on those dangerous lips. “I was not under the impression that you owned me, Urahara-san. You are becoming quite...possessive.” 

The Hogyoku had been **his** creation. A creation that Aizen had stuck deep inside of him. In a sense, he had completely owned Aizen at one point.

If he hadn’t been afraid of Aizen’s potential, he would have wanted nothing more than to allow Aizen that piece of him. But there had been something about digging the Hogyoku out of Aizen’s bare warm flesh and maybe that was why he had made up his mind in taking the orb back. Because the power of it all scared him.

He was nothing like Aizen, but then the thought of Aizen beneath him...fuelled by the image of Aizen bent over his desk, legs stretched apart and hips raised, waiting, wanting...unearthed different sort of desires. 

Barely stifling a groan at the memory, he pulled himself away from his desk to get Aizen out of his lab. The sooner it was done, the sooner temptation walked out.

-0-

The Blue Inn emptied out, late at night. The last of the patrons stumbled out, all except one.

Shinji wouldn’t waste his time in shoving Aizen out, any sort of conversation was lost on someone that called himself a VIP client and expected a private performance from him.

Which was all that Aizen would get; complete silence, except the melodic sounds that sprang forth from the piano. And as soon as he had enough of Aizen intimidating him by the topboard, he would draw out the music of his improvised performances just so there was no chance of it ending abruptly in Aizen’s eyes.

And not even the whine of a replay would change Shinji’s mind. Aizen needed to stop dictating his life.

How it came to the point where Aizen had shuffled over and was frankly trying to squeeze himself on the stool beside Shinji, was beyond him. 

That sneaky brat! How?!

In the couple of seconds that Shinji had closed his eyes, Aizen had to have practically flown over.

Gone was his intention to end the song naturally when he had to reach over Aizen’s lap to get to all keys. Besides, instead of claiming the space on the stool and shoving Aizen off, he had scooted to the left, away from Aizen, indirectly giving the bastard more room...

He was about to straighten up, yet the words of, “Can you tell me about my mother.” glued him stuck to his seat.

“What?”

Aizen was close enough, he didn’t need to repeat it. With barely a couple of fingers that could fit in between the space of them, the proximity made it easier to get an idea of Aizen’s objective. At least through those features. 

“Why?”

Aizen had known his mother as well. Why would he need anymore validation on her? He wouldn’t be able to make Aizen wiser on her person.

“You’ve known her before she had me.” Aizen said.

Aizen turned a little more into his direction, their knees would have touched if Shinji hadn’t set his feet aside. Aizen wouldn’t be expecting any performance anymore apparently. “Would that change your perception?”

“No, but that is not why I ask. You told me that you knew her...” Aizen motioned at him with a nudge of his head. “How should I depict that?”

Had the soft tones of his melodies caused this sudden sentimentality?

Was he himself even prepared to rake through his memories of her?

And most importantly, was this a trick?

He studied Aizen’s expecting gaze, trying to pick out any hint of foul play.

On the other hand, Aizen certainly deserved to know. But why come to him? Why should it be exactly him to inform Aizen?

“What do I say?” he wondered out loud, and tried to search in his memories for something useful. “You knew what she looked like, so you probably don’t need me to confirm that.”

The uncanny similarities of those eyes though... made him avert his gaze.

“As for the rest...she was a very sociable and accepting person, very likeable.” basically everything you’re not. He thought. That made the similarities diminish fast.

“She was.” Aizen agreed. Shinji didn’t try to linger on the fact that they actually agreed on something. He was supposed to create distance between him and Aizen... “How did you meet her?”

“Entrance exams.” he could still picture it perfectly, “I was crazy nervous then, but she managed to calm me.” the thought of her smile, had his crooking up into a smile of his own.

He pulled his hands back when Aizen attempted to close the fallboard. An elbow became the support of Aizen’s head, giving the impression that Aizen was intently listening. 

“We became close, inseparably so.” he nodded fondly and when his gaze met Aizen’s, the fixed, determined stare had him clarifying, “As friends! There was nothing between us, ever.” ...sadly... “So don’t worry, I’m not gonna blurt out that I’m yer secret father or something.”

“Ah regrettably. I was about to crawl on your lap and demand the hugs that I had to miss out on.”

The uneasy look that he probably outed then had Aizen breaking out in laughter. “Don’t you fucking dare.” he warned, but he couldn’t help controlling his own amusement.

“Did you know my father though? Because I never met him, nor did she ever speak a word about him.” 

“No.” Fortunately, because he would have hated the man’s guts for stealing her away from him. Which was also something that kind of broke off their contact, the news of Amaya pregnant had made Shinji set a step aside, consciously. He hadn’t wanted to interfere, nor would he have wanted to have any contact with her child, and yet, here the brat was.

Who became the bane of his existence.

Funny how it went.

Aizen’s eyes had drifted off to some point on his piano, and without the other’s gaze on him, Shinji didn’t find it hard to admit that their decent conversation had been...pleasant?

But the guilt of spending time with Aizen crept up anyways and he straightened up to get his glass of Cognac from the topboard. When he turned back around, Aizen was making motions of leaving.

All in all, this Friday, hadn’t been that bad...

-0-

Sousuke was going to have to take matters into his own hands. Literally. He just hadn’t expected it to become this literal.

He stood in front of the adult toy shop that Kyouraku had recommended, hesitating to enter.

But if he wanted to be ready for Byakuya, he was best prepared. He couldn’t count on Kyouraku and the progress with Shinji and Urahara was much too fragile to expect a lay in the sheets.

The hood covering his face felt like a sure protection, at least no one could be confronted with him entering such an establishment.

He had to shove his pride to the side, scrambling up some courage that was a leftover of when he visited Kyouraku’s division, he opened the door.

Just his luck that a couple just decided to walk out. Sousuke hadn’t been able to lower his head fast enough, besides the glimpse of the Shihoin heiress and her little slave, had him looking twice anyways.

Word would be going around...

Without attracting even more attention to himself, he just closed the door and hurried himself in between the narrow hallway of the store shelves. When he finally allowed himself a little peek around, he practically recoiled at the array of dildos. The clear outlining of some of those mushroom heads were even pointed at him, a suction cup at the base had the phallic objects ready for action.

Who even owned such a...contraption? The idea of fucking himself on a plastic cock that was plastered to his wall? No, not exactly the epitome of pleasure.

Moving on, his knowledge on adult toys broadened exponentially when the dildos seem to grow in size. Was that even possible to take in without squirting a whole bottle of lube inside first?

“Hollow sizes.”

He literally jumped and his hood fell off at the voice next to him. The store owner, likely, was standing there suddenly.

“Popular...” she attested.

As if he was waiting on her personal review.

He couldn’t imagine why they would be popular though. If he made a fist, the width of the head would be around the same size, some even bigger.

Well...in that aspect, some did enjoy...that.

He smiled uncomfortably when she kept standing next to him. It was awkward enough as it was without her presence. Deciding to shuffle back to the left and just grab a random dildo, his eyes fell on a bright blue Hollow cock. The fact that Grimmjow flashed in his mind, made him grab almost blindingly at a normal size. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My internship has been postponed because of the Corona Crisis, the only good thing about this whole ordeal is that I have a lot of time to work on my paper. As for the rest, please stay healthy and safe peeps!!  
A/N: Also I hid a little easter egg couple inside of this chapter, I had read a fic of that couple recently and it was awesome!


	13. Miscommunication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Byakuya’s scene, I think that’s a warning in itself. 

**Chapter 13: Miscommunication**

** **

The delegation had went relatively well, or so Ichigo concluded out of their meeting with the queen.

Queen Mary hadn’t wanted them physically near her, so a projection of some sort of the queen had been made possible in Lord Gwydion’s office. Why it had taken exactly three days to see her through a screen had in Kyouraku’s opinion been done to test their willingness in cooperation. 

Peace had been restored, if had it even teetered on war in the first place.

It was simple really, the Seireitei had to undo the connection to Reverse London and had to swear on abstinence of magical matters. 

Through it all though, Queen Mary did seem to have an unhealthy obsession with him. As if Ichigo was the chosen one, the fact that he had functioned as Soul Society, East branch’s hero, had been aggrandised by her.

He should have gotten used to that treatment if it weren’t his ‘cross breeding’ heritage that had taken the spotlight. He was suddenly this odd specimen that had defied science.

Needless to say, he hadn’t liked that attention and it had made him brood about any other magical possibilities. 

Ichigo needed some answers, some sort of reassurance and his feet dragged him to Aizen’s place.

“Kurosaki-san?” Aizen glanced into the hallway fleetingly. “I hadn’t expected you...here... How did you get my address?”

“Kyouraku.”

As per his request. Because even though Aizen had lied, had caused mayhem and had driven Ichigo to the utmost, nearly resulting in the loss of his powers. Among other many bad deeds...

It had also been Aizen that had been the only one who hadn’t concealed his ties to his Quincy powers. Granted Aizen had probably deliberately tried to cause a rift between him and his father, at that moment, but Aizen had been the only one to tell him the truth.

And that from Aizen...

That was why, if there would ever be anyone to inform him about his heritage to any magical properties, Ichigo wanted it to be Aizen. Except being possibly mislead in order to drive a wedge between him and his family, Aizen couldn’t cause a ravage.

Besides, he was smarter than that, he wasn’t that naive anymore. Anything Aizen told him would have to be validated by facts, obviously.

Instead of allowing him entry though, Aizen kept standing in the middle of the doorway. “Since when did Kyouraku return?”

Maybe Aizen was ashamed of his living conditions. It wasn’t the grand palace that had been owned by Aizen in Hueco Mundo.

“Since Friday.”

That had taken Ichigo two days in order to gather his courage to go see Aizen. 

“I see.” Aizen nodded and for a split second had shown some sort of displeasure? But those features reverted quickly back in that standard polite smile. “Oh I’m sorry, Kurosaki-san, but my presence is actually required somewhere else, perhaps we can further this discussion some other day?”

“But it won’t take long.” He had the courage now, before it would fly away and doubts about Aizen’s genuineness would take over again.

“Fine,” Aizen agreed easily. “come in.”

Aizen then stepped aside and when Ichigo set foot in the tiny flat, he had kind of imagined the interior to reflect the sturdy wooden front door. Because out of all the doors in the hallway, Aizen’s looked to be custom made and totally out of tune with the rest of the vibe in the apartment complex.

Almost as if Aizen had done a fixer upper.

But as he looked around, the furniture as well as the tatami and wall panelling, was probably a copy of the rest of the flats; cheap and anything but durable.

“Please, sit down.” despite claiming he was needed somewhere else, Aizen offered him a seat and questioned if he wanted some tea.

“I’m fine.” Ichigo said, gaze still going through the room in order to catch a glimpse of Aizen’s so called wealth. Maybe it was even better if he just asked, it had been such a point of concern and something he just couldn’t let go of. “The other day, when we went out for a drink, why did you pay when you were supposedly short of money...”

Aizen motioned again to take a seat and because Aizen kept insisting, he just went with it. “Did you come specifically here to get an answer to that?”

No, not at all actually. But he was here already, so he rather shushed his previous worries regarding Aizen before even considering getting an answer to what he was originally hoping to be informed of.

“I’ve been thinking about that for a while...” it was true, the sight of that stack of bills had kept replaying in his mind.

He wasn’t looking to befriend Aizen, but he also didn’t want to foster a hate, fuelled by Aizen’s passed actions. Aizen’s deeds didn’t need to be forgiven, he just needed to put in extra effort to finally do the right thing. 

Ichigo waited for an answer as Aizen came around the table to take a seat right next to him. That sort of weird familiarity, that probably wasn't even appropriate between most acquaintances.

“You have to understand it from my point of view.” Aizen leaned slightly into him which made Ichigo shuffle back into his seat, back straight against the support of the chair. “Would you appreciate it if someone half your age, or even younger, would pay your bills?”

Might be his human education that strived for solidarity and collectivity that influenced his thoughts, but yeah. “I don’t see the problem with that...” and with Aizen acting out the great Samaritan, why would it suddenly matter if someone younger helped you out? 

“Let me put it this way then, would you be of the same opinion if it was a woman instead?”

He unconsciously had to laugh, because what was supposed to be the difference here?

“Yeah.”

Aizen’s polite smile disappeared, a simpering smile left in its wake when those features scrunched up.

“That’s totally sexist by the way.” he had wanted to nudge Aizen’s arm, but wasn't that a little too buddy buddy?

Maybe that was what Aizen didn’t understand in the first place; it was something that friends did. It wasn’t necessarily seen as a charitable act, but just a treat, nothing more. 

“A man can’t be maintained by a woman.” Aizen said in a no-nonsense tone.

So it was about pride in Aizen’s eyes. “Totally sexist.” Ichigo confirmed again and it had Aizen frowning his way.

It was kind of funny actually to see Aizen so outspoken about something that seemed natural to him. Which also kind of brought up the subject of Aizen’s loneliness again. Maybe it wasn’t even pride, but Aizen just wasn’t used to the concept of friends? It was simply foreign to him?

Who had actually managed to become somewhat close to Aizen anyways, except Hinamori who probably wouldn’t even think twice about poisoning Aizen now.

“Did you ever pay for Gin?”

Aizen looked at him funny. “Gin was not a prostitute.” 

“No, that’s not what I meant...” man, this was awkward. Maybe Aizen was a little confused about the topic at that point. “I mean like going out for a drink, did you ever treat him?”

“Gin lived on the streets, I paid for his food and later down the line for his tuition at the Academy.”

“Oh.” that was actually a good deed! He hadn’t heard that side of the story yet. To think that Gin had gotten a chance in the Gotei through Aizen. Then again, hadn’t Gin told him something completely different in Fake Karakura Town?

“And he repaid me by trying to murder me.” Aizen deadpanned. 

Who did he have to believe anyways? Because Matsumoto and her lost Soul piece was a whole other story... Gin wouldn’t have lied about that.

“Well aside from that.” best to avoid that subject altogether. “Would you have minded if Gin paid for your food?”

“I told you,” Aizen’s furrowed brows made Ichigo feel more than a little behind. “Gin lived on the streets.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I’m talking about the possibility if Gin did have money-”

“There is no what if, Gin lived on the-”

“Man!” the frustration!! If it had been Renji he was talking to, they would have long since sorted it out through a fist fight. If Rukia hadn’t been there to chaperone them of course. “You’re impossible to have a normal conversation with, do you know that?!” 

“And you’re too thick to see the facts.”

Oh that would have definitely earned Renji a fist in the face.

_‘We can give Aizen another face-plant!’_

_ _

Yeah..., no. This wasn’t the way to go about it. It definitely wouldn’t develop in a mutual understanding with Aizen. Because that was the goal right? To understand Aizen’s reasons? Understand, not forgive.

Wait, this hadn’t been the point of his visit in the first place!

But how to go about that? Because what was Aizen allowed to know about the connection in the Dangai?

He was trying to phrase it in his mind in a way that Aizen couldn’t take advantage of the whole ordeal, but Aizen was already straightening up.

“I’m sorry, Kurosaki-san, but I have to put an end to our conversation. I’m expected somewhere else.”

Hopefully Aizen wasn’t trying to get rid of him, because it had went somewhat alright, a little stiff perhaps, but overall it wasn't a disaster.

“Is it okay then if I treat you next Saturday? And by that I mean, treating you for a drink? As courtesy would have it, you said it yourself.” Ichigo reminded Aizen.

He would have time enough to think about a scenario to bring up the topic of Reverse London. 

“If you are that tenacious in paying for my consumptions, who am I to deny you that right?”

“You’ll swear on it then?” he held up his hand, trying to make a proper deal out of it, but Aizen just laughed it off. “I mean it.” he motioned with his palm again, and Aizen reluctantly shook his hand.

With his hand positioned, expecting a high five, the handshake went as awkward as their conversation...

-0-

Aizen walked into the room Byakuya had reserved, exactly twenty minutes too late. “Apparently you are unable to keep your promises.” he admonished directly. 

Yet Aizen just strode into the room and divested himself of the black cloak to swing it over the dresser at the foot of the bed. The flashy lavender kimono that Aizen wore, underneath, reminded Byakuya briefly of Shunsui. 

“I don’t believe we had an agreement, you just trusted the note with the accommodation and date into my hand and expected me to just...” Aizen looked defyingly down at him. “accept?”

Byakuya’s seated position made their height difference intimidatingly clear. Time to take the reins into his hands, because if there was one thing he despised, it was insubordination.

“You agreed to my sessions, begged me even, and I expected you to be a man of your word.” he unclasped his legs. “My bad, your past proves you to be unable to take responsibility for your actions.” 

Aizen was anything but an honourable man.

“I had other priorities.”

What could possibly be of priority in Aizen’s meaningless life of criminal activity.

“I was afraid you had taken the route of cowardliness, your escape with your fellow accomplices at Sogyoku hill betray that you’re unable to face consequences head-on.”

Aizen’s face twisted in that permanent nonchalance was one of Byakuya’s own reasons in initiating a second session, possibly a third. To be able to break that mask and be faced with the real Aizen...

“Not to mention your cowardly plot of involving Rukia-”

That poorly veiled attempt to smother any involvement himself was simply discreditable.

“That is the reason why you want to punish me, isn’t it?” Aizen put a hand on the back of his chair, trying and failing to demonstrate a form of dominance. “it always returns in your reasons.”

Take away Aizen’s massive reiatsu and what was left was only a fraction of a fearless man.

** **

If his last session’s punishment was already too much too bear, this one would probably force Aizen to admit that he was wrong in accepting **this** freely. One barely withstood his sessions passed the third meeting.

He stood up, ignoring Aizen’s foolishness, and in that second Aizen decided to take the reins into his own hands by snatching a hold of the whip on the dresser. Completely dissolving any sort of mutual agreement between them.

As what could be expected of a man of Aizen’s standing; nothing but a fraud.

But Aizen had no control of the weapon at all, the lash out in his direction was uncoordinated, Byakuya used FlashStep to outrun the bite of the whip, it was never this practical. Even Renji in his beginner’s phase of handling a whip had had better control, and that was saying something because Renji’s reiatsu had been a flurry of incoordination.

Only under his command, had Renji become the man that he was this day. In the fifth division Renji could have never flourished.

Aizen followed his movements and redirected the swing of the whip, never one to give up.

But aside from lacking precision and swiftness, there was no real pressure behind that lash out. The general range that Aizen could hit, did play into Aizen’s advantage, because the rental room was rather cramped already. But with another use of Shunpo, Byakuya could avoid the stinging bite of the leather again. This time he stood behind Aizen.

He halted another one of Aizen’s foolish whipping by controlling the motions with his reiatsu, redirecting the single tail of the rod to the handler. The cracking sound of leather hitting skin was followed by a sharp intake of breath and the handle of the whip reflexively fell out of Aizen’s grip when Aizen had wanted to shield himself with his hands. The skin on the palms was not fleshy enough to withstand such an impact. 

A clean cut appeared directly, marking previously unblemished skin when blood welled up.

Byakuya had experienced the slash of a whip himself, as a child, growing up under the watchful eyes of his grandfather, actions unbecoming of the future heir of the Kuchiki clan, were punished severely. 

But that had never brought him pleasure, on the contrary, the feel of the sturdy handle in his palms, gave him the strength and power that he craved. To feel empowered by a simple tool instead of feeling like a helpless misbehaving child. His upbringing had encouraged the pleasure of causing humiliation, he had witnessed countless of subordinates being flogged and whipped into submission. 

To have someone begging, near sobbing, for mercy was perhaps the sweetest sound. Except the soothing rhythmic plop of the Shishi Odoshi in his pond, that was pure zen.

Not leaving Aizen much time to sooth the abused skin, he used a minor kidou to fasten Aizen’s wrists behind his back. Vine like chords seemingly sprouted out of the ground to manipulate Aizen in seiza position. Knees fell to the ground with a solid thud on the carpeted floor.

And Aizen, normally one to be so talkative and overall defiant, fell completely silent.

“I had wanted to spare you the whip,” flogging had normally been on the agenda, with something else than the bullwhip. That attribute had merely been a deterrence. “but, since you once again tried to cheat your way out of punishment, I’ll adhere your choice of weapon.”

Ginrei’s death had slackened the reigns his grandfather had had on him personally, free of duty and strict rules, Byakuya had decided to end the public humiliations in the Kuchiki estate. Thanks to, if not completely influenced, by Rukia’s judgement of the corporal punishments. 

But his need to discipline remained.

And here, in Inuzuri, without his family heirloom scarf or Kenseikan, he could distance himself from being the head of the Kuchiki clan, to Kuchiki-sama. Here he was free from prerequisites or courting principles, all that was left were his raw preferences in seeking pleasure. He was able to be and do as he pleased.

Stepping behind Aizen, he took a hold of Senbonzakura, prepared to slice the cheap kimono into pieces. But the sharp sound of Senbonzakura sliding out of the sheath at his hip alerted Aizen to his intentions.

“Spare my clothes as well. Not everyone can afford a new wardrobe.” 

The slashes of the whip would remind Aizen long after of the punishment, no need to let him experience the shame of walking home in nothing but that black cloak. 

He slid Senbonzakura back home and undid the sheath at his hip to place his zanpakuto safely to the side.

Reaching around to Aizen’s front he unfolded the darker coloured obi in the same brass manner as he did before. Dressing and undressing someone was the task of a servant, so he made quick work of pulling the lavender robe from Aizen’s shoulders. Until the kimono hung around folded wrists.

An obstacle that would prevent him from reaching Aizen’s buttocks and thighs.

He crouched behind Aizen. With a stroke of his finger near the recent cut, he had Aizen’s attention immediately. “I’m going to untie your wrists to which you will obediently put your hands into the air.” 

A nod was his response.

While dispelling part of the kidou and during the action of Aizen raising his hands into the air, Byakuya anticipated the usage of the same spell should Aizen decide to disobey once again.

The agonisingly slow seconds it took for Aizen to do as he was told had himself straightening up, looming over his kneeling subject. A favourite position of his.

Seeing as the obi had functioned as a decent makeshift cuff, last time, he trapped Aizen’s wrists with fake satin.

Now, he had full access to Aizen’s back and buttocks. That proud posture would slacken, long before he would have dished out his last whipping. Shoulders would be rigidly trying to reduce impact by shrinking in on oneself.

Reactions he was craving to see.

As he concentrated on the nice round mounds of flesh, his sight caught a hold of the moist looking sphincter in the middle. Aizen was expecting actual penetration? Professional courtesans sometimes even lacked such premeditated preparations...

More often than not, Byakuya just kept it to oral sex, the end result of the one on their knees, covered in his seed; an extra mark of humiliation.

Aizen shifting reverted his attention back to Aizen’s person in general. Aizen was waiting, anticipating that first hit.

Perhaps a little tease decreased some of that tension.

Byakuya let the end of the tail slither over the sole of Aizen’s left foot which had his subject initially spasming. The leathery whisper was a remarkable touch on the body.

Would he whip that part of the body? No, not unless he wanted to exact excruciating pain, the bullwhip would break the skin on the feet as easily as on the hands.

The cut on Aizen’s hand was self-inflicted.

And while it was his intention to punish Aizen, he was well aware of the body’s absolute limits.

Pacing behind Aizen to increase anticipation, he halted a little to the right.

He treated the right counterpart of that foot with the same caress, before continuing the brushing motion up on a smooth calf. Aizen was no longer convulsing at that sudden touch, instead a false sense of security had set in. 

Which was what he had been waiting on.

Taking the end of the tail in his palm, he let it seemingly carelessly drop down near Aizen’s feet, the slight swooshing sound and the impact of the leather near his skin had Aizen spasming and minutely straightening on his knees.

A chuckle from Aizen followed next. It was still amusing, apparently. “Increasing tension, Kuchiki-san?” 

He repeated the action one more time, without answering, before rolling up the whip back into his palm and whipping the meaty part of the calf that he had been previously caressing. “Kuchiki-sama.” he corrected. 

A fiery red welt ran along that skin, it would have been a straight line if it weren’t for Aizen flinching and then afterwards sitting back on his calves, seemingly hiding that part.

A sound other than defiance had escaped Aizen as well and with more than a couple of glances over his back, Aizen tried to assess the damage. 

One had to understand the art of flogging or whipping. If done right, the handler’s grip could draw intricate designs on skin. Someone that awaited the slash of a whip was like a blank canvas waiting to be painted.

Some handlers were beautiful in their own techniques. The black ink that decorated Renji’s tanned skin or those muscles that rippled with every movement of Zabimaru was fascinating. Although nothing beat the image of Renji kneeling at his feet. Training disguised as corporal punishment on his vice-captain, had been one thing, but instead of submission, Renji had seen it as a challenge to subdue him... 

Never had he seen sexual gratification in the eyes of his lieutenant in such instances, Renji’s upbringing might have raked up some trauma as well. 

But with Aizen, a deep seethed hatred remained; a result of Rukia’s near execution.

Aizen had taken him for a fool, had played him, but now the roles were reversed.

“Is it too much for you to bear?” Byakuya didn’t ask because he was awaiting Aizen’s validation, it was nothing but a disparaging remark. It didn’t matter what Aizen wanted, because Aizen hadn’t minded his feelings throughout the ploy of using his sister.

Aizen looked back at him, as much as he could in his position. A foolish determination to prove him wrong made Aizen return his gaze to the front, before that body made room to reach all places again.

Byakuya paced three steps to the left, an act of disorientating Aizen before letting the tail of the whip deliberately glide over that fresh cut. Aizen’s calf futilely tried to shake off that whisper.

Then, his aim concentrated on the back of those thighs.

Aizen’s muscles had tensed in preparation for the lash out, a couple of soft mock hits, had straightened Aizen’s posture bit by bit. But the real bite was dished out seconds later on the other thigh.

A gasped out choke was his response, along with hands fighting against the binding of the obi, still suspended in the air.

Another red welt was the result. The bullwhip left no mercy, like a Sakura petal that broke easily while handled by brute hands. Personally, he wouldn’t recommend such a whip for pleasure.

But it wasn't about Aizen’s pleasure. 

Aizen’s thighs quivered when the leather stroked fleetingly over the other unmarked thigh and before Byakuya could even manipulate the next whipping with his reiatsu, Aizen had forgone his straightened posture. The vines of the kidou tightened to keep Aizen plastered to the floor.

“Resume your position.” he ordered with another whisper of the tail’s end along the soles of Aizen’s feet.

It was no use, Aizen kept sitting on his heels, cutting off his access.

Having Aizen helpless, was a sight to behold. It shouldn’t be Aizen necessarily, just as long as he had the upper hand, and the one on their knees was vulnerable and exposed.

At that point, he was no longer pacing behind Aizen’s kneeled form, his cock was trapped within the confines of his fundoshi and the fabric rubbed uncomfortably against his need with every step. 

And Aizen, was still stubbornly blocking his reach.

Without another warning, nor a hint of a caress, Byakuya whipped Aizen’s left bottom. 

Seemingly, Aizen suddenly sprang back into position. The choked gasp and contraction of muscles were exquisite. Yet, defiantly, Aizen also lowered his wrists behind his neck. No matter, the knot of the obi wouldn’t give under all that fidgeting.

When Byakuya went in for a lash to his right cheek, Aizen had heard the swish of the whip and had moved back on his heels. His heels covered his bottom now actually. Byakuya had to manipulate the direction at the last second, with an increase of his reiatsu, which added severity. He avoided the soles so they didn’t receive the brunt hit, but the tail end graced Aizen’s lower back instead. 

It sliced right through skin, not a welt; a cut. 

And it had Aizen quite clearly making sound while his whole body tried to wrench itself from those confines.

Did it do something to him?

“In the depth of your despair...” that is when he would ever consider Aizen’s relinquishment.

Nothing was left of Aizen’s seiza position, his knees were still stuck to the floor, but for the rest Aizen tried to turn his body in certain contortions to cut off all access. His wrists were violently tucking against the silk, fake silk. 

“Struggling won’t loosen those ties.”

The sight wasn’t despair enough, not by far, in Byakuya’s eyes. It made his cock throb with want, but unless he forced Aizen back in position, Aizen likely wouldn’t willingly straighten his posture again.

And above all, he wanted his partners willingly accepting submission.

He set the whip aside, back on the dresser, and grabbed a hold of his zanpakuto and cloak, turning off the light, he left Aizen alone in the dark room.

In brothels he had demanded courtesans that could stand pain. No one that would burst into tears or scream at the sight of a whip. Submission meant begging, maybe sobbing for his mercy, but never with the intention to destroy someone. 

His needs were...special as Shunsui would say.

He waited in the hallway, just outside of the room, cloak now covering his identity. 

It was discipline above all else. Not that he would gain pleasure from disciplining just anyone. While it had started with penalising subordinates, this...need had only awakened at the sight of Renji.

The Rukon...dog waiting for his master.

He had been quite certain of the chemistry between them, Renji would serve him well, with pleasure. Or so he had thought, yet after the war, his vice-captain begged him for the hand of his sister.

Not for him.

Since when had Renji and Rukia gotten **that** close? Hadn’t his sister been enamoured with the Substitute?

His erection had dwindled somewhat, so he halted that train of thought. He looked back at the door of their room.

The uncertainty of being alone would get to Aizen as well, or he would have long since been trying to break free of his bonds.

Byakuya barged back into the room, deliberately with a lot of noise and flicked on the light right away. And by the sight of it, Aizen hadn’t quit fighting those bonds. The obi had loosened perhaps, but the vines were still holding strong. 

And though Aizen was quite proficient with his mouth the last time, he would be taking Aizen from behind, it had a certain anonymity to it. 

“Get back in position.” he demanded.

Aizen’s mask was still in full bloom; a venomous smile that Byakuya didn’t like one bit. “Untie me.” The tone that Aizen used, much less.

If Aizen had disguised those words with a plea, maybe, he would have at least considered it.

“Get back in position.” he wouldn’t repeat it again. But those lips, nor Aizen’s position, didn’t waver one bit. “Fine, I’ll leave you until the morning, you’ll be able to think on what the best answer would be.”

Aizen’s lips curved in a smirk. “You won’t leave me here, reiatsu leaves traces in kidou, I don’t think you would want our sessions to be out in the open.”

“The room is paid for, so until nine o’clock, you’ll be able to repent, I might even extend our stay...”

That smirk flattening was satisfying in every sense of the word. 

“...for a couple of days, or as long as it takes to tear down that foolish stubbornness of yours.”

Aizen’s wrists remained positioned around his neck, loosely kept together by the shiny fabric, but his body did straighten in seiza position once again.

It sufficed, it was as far as Aizen could be tamed today.

Byakuya wordlessly took place behind Aizen. His hands snaked around Aizen’s hips, trying to angle him for the best leverage, which had the one in his arms initially trying to wrench himself from his touch.

Perhaps he had expected another lashing? 

Once Aizen’s eyes had swept over his hands, clear that it wasn’t a leathered rope, that body subdued. 

When he had Aizen at the right height, ready for entrance, Byakuya loosened his own obi, enough to open his kimono under the belt. Sliding aside his fundoshi, he took himself in his hand. His cock still hadn’t regained full hardness, but being able to slide through a tight velvety texture, would rectify that situation fast.

Wordlessly, he slid inside, quite easily. Aizen had been more than well prepared, or he had... “Who had you before me?”

Byakuya hadn’t thought much of Aizen’s so called amateurish streetwalking. In his visits to brothels, he preferably wanted experienced sex-workers, because virgins rarely could be introduced to his play from the get go. 

“If only you knew...” Aizen gasped out.

Which transformed into a groan when Byakuya concluded that Aizen probably didn’t need time to adjust. He slid in to the hilt and then instantly worked up a pace. 

Favouriting minimal contact, even in an intimate setting, he put a palm on Aizen’s shoulder, gaining some sort of leverage to push inside or pull back. Not for the rhythm, because the rolls of Aizen’s hips backing up unto him were perfect. He just needed something to hold on to in that weird position, because he wasn't perched in between Aizen’s legs, but over them.

And with both of them on their knees, he was about the same height as Aizen. -apparently Aizen’s height resided in those legs.-

One of Aizen’s hands came in contact with Byakuya’s palm still on his shoulder. Aizen’s

wrists had never ceased its frantic fidgeting to escape those confines. With a harsher thrust inside that tight channel, their hands had connected.

Undoing the last of the belt that kept Aizen’s wrists together, Aizen’s palms instantly fell to the floor in front of them. His grip on Aizen’s shoulder was lost with the brunet on hands and knees, but the perfect arch of Aizen’s back pronounced the cut of the whip. 

Somehow, he had whipped Aizen into place.

He sought suddenly fervently for the welt on that ass, needing only a glimpse to get to the pinnacle of sweet release. His pace quickened and once he found that red mark, he spilt himself inside of Aizen’s warmth.

Those red marks would be humiliation enough, for now. They would be difficult to get rid of without reiatsu to heal.

He tucked himself back inside and adjusted his clothes again, he would be taking a shower at home. Gathering his things, he was about to make quick work of his escape.

Aizen was still on his knees, palm actually tightly locked around his own erection.

His attention drawn to Aizen’s busy hand had him almost misunderstanding Aizen’s vicious, “It’s...not only reiatsu that leaves traces...”

Aizen’s choked out gasps were slightly inaudible, but Byakuya understood just fine what Aizen had been hinting at. His semen running down Aizen’s legs was traceable, yes, but Aizen’s story -whatever that would even be- would not be believed by the fourth division.

The sick pleasure Aizen received at supposedly intending to frame him had Aizen groaning when his orgasm hit. 

Byakuya waited until those almond coloured eyes focused back on him before taking out 5000 yen, “You’re well aware that I’m immune.” His aristocratic title made him immune to all charges. Returning Aizen’s smirk with a grin of his own, he threw the banknotes carelessly in Aizen’s lap.

Before walking out though, Aizen responded with, “Your reputation isn’t.” He closed the door violently, refusing to abide to any of Aizen’s threats. 

Aizen wouldn’t. 

\----

It burned. The welts and cuts burned. Even now under the hot spray of the shower. The lashing itself had hurt, terribly, but it was nothing compared to the lasting stinging.

Sousuke had to pat himself dry with the towel, rubbing those places felt like he was scrubbing his skin raw. 

He hadn't expected the whipping to be that harsh. If he remembered correctly, he had caught the tail of Zabimaru’s lashing in his palm once, without so much of a nick in his flesh. Which had healed in a matter of seconds. 

Once again, his reiatsu being locked was a great disadvantage.

But unlike their last session, he had gotten something out of it as well. Not the money, he bunched up the notes, into the inner pocket of his kimono. He had done well in preparing himself for penetration. And while the pain of the whipping had withered any sort of arousal, being used so blatantly had reawakened the heat.

It was sick if this was the sort of contact he needed to release.

Walking, fully clothed, was even worse. Every brush of fabric against the welts or even every muscle he contracted, shot a prickly pain through his nerves.

He would have preferred to walk straight home, yet he had to make his way through the throngs of gatherers. The same sort of cult leader, -that he had seen at the theatre play last time- this time a woman, was making a scene, claiming; _“Soul Society as you know it will cease to exist!”_

Hopefully that sort of propaganda was shut down quickly.

-0-

Kyouraku motioned Kisuke inside of his office, even though Kisuke had excused himself at the sight of someone sitting on the edge of the Commander’s desk.

When the woman glanced back, it was pretty clear that it was Katen...or Kyokotsu? It was the older one. Kyouraku’s actual zanpakuto was leaning against the man’s desk, the two blades gleamed brightly due to the beams of sunlight being cast through the opened door.

“Join us!” Kyouraku bellowed joyfully after a puff on his pipe. 

When Kisuke approached the two, he could see a deck of cards littering the surface of the other’s desk. They had been in the middle of a game?

To see handler and zanpakuto bond so frivolously made him practically resentful of their relationship.

A warm glow went through him almost immediately, Benihime doused any insecurity all at once, she had always been rather quiet. 

He shook his head, but took a place in front of the desk anyways. He had to verbally decline when Kyouraku began to pour him a cup of liquor. The glass carafe was probably not filled with coloured water. “It’s only Monday, and only noon at that.” Truth was that he didn’t know when his anxiousness would come in to play and mixing his medication with liquor was not a smart thing to do.

“In that case...” Kyouraku raised his glass, before drinking it all in one go. And with a wave of his hand, the image of Katen or Kyokotsu disappeared in an instant. “So...did you manage to break off the connection?”

The supposed idiots that Mayuri had send had been right about the Dangai.

“No. I presume that it can only be closed from in Reverse London, not the other way around.”

Kyouraku inclined his head in a questioning manner. “While the delegation went so so, I wouldn't give those instructions out of hand.”

“You don’t have to, Mayuri will be sending a team actually, lead by Akon. Normally you would have received those papers already...” 

Kyouraku’s office might not resemble the pure chaos his own lab portrayed, in fact it was nicely tidied up, except, where were all the documents? 

Kyouraku rummaged in his desk, but instead of coming up with the file, he relit his pipe again.

“Maybe...” Kyouraku murmured with the pipe in his mouth. “While I’m officially back since Friday, I took that day off... Nanao-chan is now sorting diligently through what’s priority and what not. I expect my work to come crawling over before the end of lunch.”

As captain it was easy to delegate most stuff off to your vice-captain, when all you had to do was sign. And Kyouraku had two vice-captains for that...

“Okay...” Kisuke took out his fan and fluttered it lightly. “As for the rest, how did it go in Reverse London?”

“Queen Mary is cautious, she kept us in a hotel. I can’t complain, there was enough alcohol...” Kyouraku poured himself another cup. “and good company to boot!”

“Female company?” he asked hopefully with a flutter of his fan.

“I drink to that!” Kyouraku attested and swung his cup back.

Kisuke would agree, if it meant that Kyouraku would swear off on his adventures with Aizen.

“Ah! There she comes...” Kisuke glanced back at Kyouraku’s assessment and saw Nanao walking over with a big stack of documents. Kyouraku also simultaneously dimmed his pipe and cleared the cards from his desk. Nanao was probably the only one that could gear Kyouraku back up. “My lunch break ends here, was there anything else?”

Suddenly a far more professional tone had set in, Kisuke was frankly indirectly being pointed to the door. 

Even with Nanao back in her own office, Kyouraku was already browsing through some of the documents.

“Actually...are you still seeing Aizen?”

Wasn’t that why he had come for a visit in the first place? To get an answer?

“Am I still seeing Aizen? In what sense? Am I still keeping watch over him, yes.” Kyouraku gave him a lazy grin. “Are you still checking his reiatsu?”

Kisuke nodded behind his fan. 

Kyouraku spread his arms in a gesture that translated, ‘Okay that’s cleared now.’

He shouldn't, but, “Where were you Saturday, two weeks ago?”

Kyouraku scratched his beard while gazing off in the distance and when it looked like Kisuke was about to receive his answer, Kyouraku leaned into him and asked, “Are you questioning me? While I need to remind Sousuke countlessly on our hierarchy, I don’t think I need to explain the term to you, mhh?”

He looked down, knowing that had been a bridge too far. But that still hadn’t made him any wiser on Kyouraku’s so called own impure intentions with Aizen.

“I kid, I kid. Where was I Saturday, two weeks ago?” Kyouraku chuckled. “Boy I hardly remember what I did last Saturday...”

He smiled meekly at Kyouraku’s amusing laugh.

Right, Aizen had told him he had pleasured himself, not had pleasure with someone else...

Besides, why would it matter?

And while Kyouraku had translated it into a joking matter, Kisuke apologised for stepping out of line, before leaving the first division.

Yoruichi was waiting on him in a nearby bar, they would be lunching together. He wasn’t really hungry and he made that clear as soon as he joined his friend and her girlfriend at their table, yet Yoruichi persisted, “You have to eat and you will eat or I won’t tell you our juicy little secret.”

Was it that much of a secret if he hadn’t heard it yet?

He reluctantly looked through the menu.

Soi Fon eventually yanked the menu out of his hands when he had been browsing the pamphlet for five minutes straight. “I’ll order and you will eat all of it, if you worry her any longer, I’ll simply shove the food through your throat myself. Even when you’re not around, all she talks about is you.”

“That’s not true...” Yoruichi shushed her girlfriend’s worries by leaning into her. Their whispering and general lovey doveyness made him want to focus on the table next to them, but the barriers of paper screens made him unable to escape.

And with the threat of Soi Fon force feeding him, Kisuke did eat at least half of what had been on his plate, the rest he diligently pushed to one side so it seemed as if he had finished quite a bit.

Overall he was glad he had eaten when Yoruichi sprouted her gossip of, “We saw Aizen in a sex-shop.”

He would have choked at that information otherwise.

Needless to say, he didn’t need any other encouragement to go see Aizen again after that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Grimmjow, Grimmjow, where are thou? 


	14. Contamination

**Chapter 14 Contamination: **

“One moment.” Aizen said and Kisuke had to step back when the door was practically slammed closed.

He couldn’t fathom why he had been made to stand there for a minute or so, Aizen had looked decent from what he had seen. When the door opened a second time, more than ajar, Kisuke was beckoned inside.

Knocking on the hard wood as he entered, Kisuke observed, “You have a new door?” 

Question left unanswered, Aizen rather threw back his own sort of question. “Is it Wednesday already? Wasn’t I supposed to come to you?”

Aizen’s eyes didn’t need to sparkle visibly with mischief, that self-confident posture and those lips curled in that infamous smirk was enough.

That wonderful mood...

He was in for Aizen counteracting everything he said or did.

“Wood from out of North Rukongai,” obviously. Kisuke didn’t need to see the stamp to confirm when it decorated the whole Shihoin estate. “which comes with quite the cost price. I didn’t know that you were still allowed to keep your savings...”

Didn’t Central prefer Aizen to be as helpless as could be? All of Aizen’s savings had been confiscated, with the possibility of Central even reclaiming a great deal of Aizen’s pay-checks.

Aizen tutted. “Don’t beat me before I’m even sentenced, Urahara-san. It was a gift.”

“A gift?” Was it bad that only one person came to mind. “From Kyouraku?” Gift giving was an odd form of keeping watch over someone...

When Aizen approached him, his heart-rate increased in an instant. Aizen not being able to read his reiatsu was a life safer. But the other knew the kind of affect he had on Kisuke. The way Aizen circled him as if he was prey...

“Yes...”

As soon as Aizen had whispered that affirmation, he turned around to be faced with that mocking smile. “So you’ve found a new tactic to get your way; seduction. Easy when Kyouraku is persuaded with liquor.”

Then again, Aizen’s tactics to acquire what he wanted, had never been fair to begin with. And using other Souls had also never been an obstacle to Aizen.

“And sex...” Aizen admitted with a big smirk.

Which had made him snap.

With the slightest push of reiatsu Kisuke had Aizen flinging back against the door, after a colliding thud, he blocked off Aizen’s chance of escape by plastering him against the wooden surface. With his left palm in the middle of Aizen’s chest, -a place that previously hosted the Hogyoku- and his right hand gripping Aizen’s incoming wrist, the door was the perfect leverage.

It had been fleeting, but Aizen had grimaced. Maybe because of the odd laceration that run along Aizen’s hand. Not that Kisuke accommodated Aizen by relocating his grip. 

His heart was beating wildly now. Time to slow down his reiatsu’s spiking intervals, there was no need to attract attention to their scenario. Besides with Aizen being unable to prey upon him, like a hungry Hollow that was about to pounce, Kisuke had a sense that he controlled the situation.

“So you admit; you’re seducing him to get what you want.”

Why would Aizen be singling out Kyouraku specifically? The connection between Aizen and Kyouraku had been broken a long time ago. Whatever locked down Aizen’s reiatsu certainly couldn’t be abolished by the Captain Commander.

Aizen inclined his head just so that their distance shortened, with Aizen’s face just mere centimetres from his own, Kisuke was grateful for his hold on Aizen. “It is common knowledge that either liquor and/or sex persuade Kyouraku.” 

“And you want to take advantage of that common knowledge.” Kisuke inquired with a sure nod. It was obvious that Aizen was trying to benefit from the situation, but in what sense?

“I am merely stating the obvious.” Aizen said neutrally.

He shook his head. No, Aizen wasn’t simply stating the obvious, he was bragging and rallying Kisuke up.

“Kyouraku is liable for anyone that spreads their legs,” Aizen kept up that false smile, outwardly not deterred one bit by his discouragement. “but, it doesn’t make you special.” If anything, it made Aizen pretty much hit rock bottom. If Aizen had to make do with seduction techniques, he had to have lost his credibility.

If so, that had Aizen’s lethality dropping even further. Apparently, his reiatsu and Kyouka Suigetsu had been his main source of power.

“Are you jealous of me or of Kyouraku-san?”

“I’m not jealous.” Of course not! And certainly not of Aizen, as he said; Kyouraku’s attention was anything but special, it just meant that Aizen was easy to get.

As for being jealous of Kyouraku, well...what made Aizen go after Kyouraku anyways? If he had been praised as attractive in Aizen’s eyes, then why wasn’t Aizen trying to seduce him?

He shouldn’t even be considering that in the first place!

“To sooth your concerns, Urahara-san,” It were no concerns of his whatsoever! “I did not mooch this door through a little flirt with Kyouraku-san. It was a gift to ensure my protection.”

Aizen pulled to loosen the grip on his wrist, the skin on Aizen’s hand stretched along with those movements, which generated another fleeting grimace.

The laceration?

If that had to pose as the result of an attack, it would have had to have been a lousy attack. Since it resembled more of a cat-scratch. By a vicious cat, yes, but Kisuke could attest to the experience of Yoruichi’s sucker punches being as effective in her cat form. 

And if that had been an act of self-harm, then Aizen had an even poorer aim then he had initially thought. 

He squeezed Aizen’s hand. “Why would you need to be protected?”

Facial features contorted, as expected, along with Aizen trying to dislocate his grip again. “If you would allow me a little room to breathe.” 

Their bodies hadn’t been touching in the first place...

Kisuke took a small step back, but didn’t slacken his anchor on Aizen at all.

“If you would also release me...”

He pulled back his hand from Aizen’s sternum, but he wouldn’t allow Aizen free range entirely. Aizen’s palm was still in his grasp and his free hand went to Benihime’s hilt, just in case.

“Why your sudden guard like stance? I merely want to show you something.”

That eagerness alone made Kisuke’s senses reel back on high alert.

“Then show me.” He attested, even though Aizen answered with a shake of his wrist, the one that Kisuke still got a hold of. 

Without his grip relenting, Aizen turned around anyways. The awkward angle was a benefit to Kisuke, with just a sliver of enhancement, he could force that wrist to a near breaking point.

And then Aizen slid off his kimono with his free hand.

The cloth halted from falling off entirely at his grip.

And though Kisuke had been determined to keep that forceful grip in place, it slackened drastically when he was rewarded with the reveal of Aizen’s skin. And it loosened entirely when he saw...even more lacerations.

Kisuke’s palm relocated almost immediately to trace those red welts. “What-”

Aizen turned in his non-existent hold, which dropped the rest of the kimono to the ground.

Kisuke tried his best to keep his gaze locked unto Aizen’s face, but he still did a quick scan of that body, just to make sure that those welts weren’t running all over.

“As I said, I need protection.”

It took a couple of more seconds to comprehend that what Aizen told him, was blatantly a lie.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He had to stop himself from physically touching Aizen again, if only to shake Aizen out of his own lies. “That was supposed to be an attack?” He had seen an attendant centuries ago being whipped in the Shihoin estate, -Luckily Yoruichi didn’t have her mother’s temperament- and keeping that image in consideration, Aizen’s back would have to be littered with flesh deep scars. 

The marks and the places that targeted Aizen’s body though were likely a sexual punishment. Or so that was the only conclusion he could come up with. Although he had to admit that Yoruichi’s story of Aizen having visited a sex shop, was feeding his brain with some lusty visuals. 

Not to mention when he had traced one of the welts, there was no reiatsu distinguishable.

“Yes, what do you presume?” 

First of all, Aizen lacked the portrayal of a victim. Which brought about the possibility of Aizen’s ‘rape’ sob story being made up to fool him as well and that made him mad.

And he just blurted out, “What game are you and Kyouraku playing?” basically blinded by jealousy.

“Perhaps you would want to play along?” Aizen practically crooned.

Aizen’s taunt prompted another break of control and he just pushed Aizen against the door for a second time. This time though, his hands remained safely stationed on Aizen’s shoulders. 

When he noticed that Aizen’s chest was heaving in a quicker tempo, the knowledge that he had managed to break through that nonchalant front was all of the reassurance Kisuke needed right then and there.

A tidbit that calmed down his raging emotions. Why did Aizen make him lose control?

Which was of course not unbeknownst to Aizen.

“Whatever your thoughts may be, could you heal me? Please?”

Aizen’s wicked grin was still in place. So there was no doubt that Aizen was playing with him right now. But at the same time, how likely would it be that he would get another chance to have his hands all over Aizen? 

He backed off and gave an indicating nudge with his chin, despite his conscious cursing him out for turning weak in the knees at the simple prospect of...

And when Aizen turned around, he made graciously use of his healing palms.

The welt on Aizen’s lower back was perhaps the safest to reach and simultaneously also the one mark that had left the most damage. But it was no mark that inhabited enhanced reiatsu, at least he couldn’t feel any signature. 

He was merely hovering over Aizen’s skin, no more than that. 

Yet when his palm lowered, to the fine red line along one of Aizen’s asscheeks, Kisuke couldn’t help turning it into a half caress. The manner in which that flesh bounced back as he let go was mesmerising to say the least. 

He then moved quickly on to Aizen’s thigh. He was kneeling at that point, eye to eye with Aizen’s ass. The mark was long since gone and he was still mesmerised by that surprisingly supple flesh.

He also almost missed the mark along Aizen’s calf...

And when the last mark finally dissolved, Aizen had already turned himself around which resulted in Aizen’s twitching length practically poking him in the face. 

He straightened up and somehow their distance had shortened.

“Being watched makes you excited?”

Kisuke had wanted to make it sound like a scornful remark, but Aizen’s breathed, “Only by you.” had made him forget his intention altogether.

But the confession in itself made him wisely take a step back.

Aizen kept watching him intently, even while he passed to clear away his futon? The mattress seemed to have been haphazardly rolled up in the first place. 

He regarded Aizen’s action with confusion. To be suddenly cast aside like that should have made him sing out in relief.

Yet a certain phallic object falling out of one of the folds of the futon made Kisuke remember why he had come to visit in the fist place.

The exaggerated, “Oops...” seemed a scene reminiscent of the beginning of a bad porno. 

He was on the brink of thinking that his medications had taken on a hallucinative side-effect. But Aizen’s grin was real, too real.

When his senses kicked back in, Kisuke flew to Aizen, which had Aizen pushed up against the edge of the table in a matter of seconds. He had a million things to say, a million accusations even, but he couldn’t even get one single word out. 

His rage had him breathing harshly into Aizen’s face, and his reiatsu was spiking blatantly to anyone who was in the neighbourhood.

And then Aizen closed their distance.

The lips against his were soft, but the pressure behind them was brutal.

And yet he opened up, just so he could claim Aizen’s mouth in a punishing pace. If only he could choke Aizen with his tongue, that would be one problem less to deal with.

The moan he received drew him back to reality and he pushed against Aizen’s shoulders so the brunet lay practically sprawled on the table. The fact that Aizen was still naked and practically thrusting against his leg made him pull back just as fast. 

He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his lab coat, hoping it would give the impression that he was wiping off Aizen’s contamination. 

And then he all but fled from Aizen’s den of dangerous temptations.

-0-

“A mass number of disappearances ‘ave taken place in between district 56 and 74, probably the work of a Hollow if we can believe the given descriptions...” Shinji quickly briefed his assembled team, right before they were planning to leave for the mission. 

It was believed to be some sort of animal, since the bodies it left behind had torn limbs or completely bisected Souls.

Same old, same old, with other words.

Nevertheless, the simple notion of disappearances could still evoke suspiciousness regarding one person; Aizen. Coincidence? Not likely, the vanishing of Souls was an everyday occurrence really. But was mostly only brought to light when it impacted the crucial balance; when the problem became a little too big. Then and only then did the Gotei have to interfere.

“I’d like to join.”

Shinji stopped midst rambling the report’s summery to see Momo determinedly palming the hilt of her zanpakuto.

The team was chosen days ago, they were practically good to go.

Okay, he likely wasn’t the only one who had briefly thought about Aizen when seeing the subject; disappearances in the Rukongai. But he had to admit that it was a far stretch. His hate for his former lieutenant far overshadowed his common sense.

Or at least he was forcin’ himself to hate Aizen lately...

But ain’t no way that he had thought about choosing Momo for the team, she was a shell of who she used to be. She would need protection, she would be nothin’ but a needless distraction. 

If he didn’t though, he would likely get Hiyori on his back for being a supposed misogynistic asshole that didn’t give his female lieutenant a chance on the ‘battle field’...

And thinking of Hiyori’s punishment that included a kick in the balls, his decision was made really quickly.

Fine! 

-0-

If there was one thing Sousuke abhorred; it was washing his clothes. Submerging an adult kimono in a tiny bucket was a feat. And then it was constant repetition; sopping a part of the cloth, rinse and squeeze the last of the droplets out, before repeating the process on another part. 

His arms were thoroughly washed out and he had only finished half of his second kimono.

The work of a servant. The work of a woman. 

And while he could rely on the service of hand-wash establishments in the city, due to the help of Kyouraku’s money, Sousuke was actually proud of his self-reliance. It was the only sort of self-sustenance that he still had.

At the splash of a footstep, coming from behind him, on the wet tiles of his bathroom, he grabbed a hold of his dagger and sprang up. In the midst of turning around, the sight of Kyouraku had him slowing down his violent swing in the direction of the intruder.

His wrist, the one that was holding the dagger, was grabbed lightly in Kyouraku’s hold. And Kyouraku’s other palm snaked around his waist, in a mocking dance position. To which Kyouraku swayed them slightly to an invisible tune. “My...my...always that fierce welcoming...”

He was already offended at Kyouraku once again slipping unnoticed in his flat, when the dagger in his hand disappeared as soon as Kyouraku decided to flick it behind them in his central living room.

The sound of the blade lodging deeply into the old ratty tatami, made him pull out of Kyouraku’s drunken dance. “Now I know why you bought me that door-” Sousuke had stepped back, while accusing Kyouraku, right into the soap water. The bucket tilted, spilling more water all over the floor, -completely missing the drain- and he himself would have tripped, had Kyouraku not been there to catch him midst fall.

Back to gentleman status then?

“The life of domesticity suits you well.” Kyouraku appraised with a glance at the drying kimono.

Sousuke entirely ignored the glorification of housework...

“I would like that duplicate key you made.” he gestured with an open palm.

Kyouraku had other means to enter his flat, undoubtedly, but he wanted to be in possession of the spare one. It was just the principle.

Kyouraku revealed the handy trinket after building up unnecessary anticipation by feeling himself up and shrugging his shoulders along the way, as if he didn’t have the key in his possession. It was then thrown in his direction, but poor aim, on Kyouraku’s part, made Sousuke unable to catch it.

He was already on a short fuse regarding Kyouraku. His not so amused stare, had Kyouraku chuckling and coming closer. But before Sousuke could be scooped up in the other’s arms again, he bend down to grab the key and stored it away.

Leaving his backside up for grabs.

Sousuke knew Kyouraku wouldn’t pass up that opportunity. An elbow digging into the middle of his back kept him anchored in position and the body pressed up against him from behind was like a solid wall. 

“We can go on where we left off.” Kyouraku promised.

Sousuke felt the hem of his kimono being bunched upwards, bit by bit. That was where he ended his compliance. Dropping down unto his knees, he practically crawled his way back to the door. His kimono had done a good job of soaking up access water that still hadn’t found the drain.

With Kyouraku’s amused gaze following him, Sousuke said, “I heard you were back since Friday.” He grabbed a towel to dry his wet feet, before stepping back into his indoor tabi that he had left on the tatami. Completely denying Kyouraku’s only reason of visitation.

“I have been busy...”

He chuckled at Kyouraku’s excuse and pushed the towel in the older man’s arms as soon as Kyouraku followed him into the living room.

“...and some birdy apparently informed you already?” Kyouraku finished amusedly after a quick wipe down of his own feet. The towel was then put to the side, before Kyouraku stepped towards him while making a come hither gesture. “I’m here now. Are you ready for me?” 

Chuckling, Sousuke swayed slightly while stepping back, doing his own sort of uncoordinated dance. He tutted and shook his head while dislodging the dagger. “I **was** ready for you, not today though.” Putting his left foot up on a nearby chair, he teasingly revealed his leg up until the black strap around his thigh. With the fabric of the kimono still slightly wet, he had to practically drag the sticky fabric to the side. 

He had been about to put the dagger back in its place, but Kyouraku halted right next to him.With his own outstretched palm directed at Sousuke.

Sousuke tried to capture eye contact, but it was useless when Kyouraku’s head had tilted downward, watching his revealed skin entrancingly. He handed over the blade to Kyouraku though, trusting the object not to be confiscated or it would have been done so previously.

Kyouraku’s other palm then traced up his slightly dampened skin. Tenderly and warm. And though he wanted to keep up his determination of denying Kyouraku his body, the heat that enveloped him at that sensual touch was difficult to squash entirely.

Kyouraku’s single eye connected with his.

To be suddenly faced with a bedazzling smile, -as if he had just offered Kyouraku a flask of Cognac- made him want to repeat his own denial out loud. Yet when he felt the blade of the dagger slightly scrape against his skin as it was slid back into the thigh strap, he held himself as still as he could be. Captivated himself by that encouraging smile.

Kyouraku’s warm palm remained stationed on his thigh after that, while those lips of the older man neared his.

And Sousuke let himself willingly be captured in a kiss. 

He felt Kyouraku’s other appendage curl around his waist once again. His own hand went to Kyouraku’s palm, clinging for support as he yielded to the sweet and rich taste of liquor that Kyouraku’s tongue provided.

Sousuke would have abandoned all of his previous notions regarding Kyouraku’s absence was it not for Kyouraku suddenly stepping back and rummaging inside of his shihakusho. “You can get ready for me now.” Kyouraku murmured with a slap on his thigh. The stack was put on the table as Kyouraku walked up to the cupboards to...pour himself a drink.

The sight of the money ruined that magic spell that momentarily bewitched Sousuke.

Kyouraku returned not soon after and pulled the chair back, the one where his foot had been stationed on. He then plopped himself down while nudging with his head in the direction of his bathroom. “I’ll be waiting.” 

Was that supposed to be a command?

“I don’t think so, Kyouraku-san.” Sousuke denied it all the same. “You can’t expect me to lie back whenever you throw some money.”

He should have been Kyouraku’s first priority when the man returned on Friday. And not for days later to be seen as an easy booty call.

Though he longed for the return of his powers, which meant accommodating his suitors for the BloodBond in every way, else there would be no progress at all.

But there was also his dignity. 

“Isn’t that why our contract exists?” Kyouraku shrugged after a sip. “I spoil you with goods and you spoil me with-”

“No.” Kyouraku watched him intriguingly as he hiked up his kimono. “First of all, you should have come to me on Friday.” He settled one leg on the other side of Kyouraku’s lap. Dual signals or not, Kyouraku likely thought he was playing hard to get, because before Sousuke even had the chance to settle completely on Kyouraku’s knees, hands encased his hips tightly.

“Cut me some slack lovely. I had just come back from foreign territory, I needed a moment to myself. Think about the danger I posed.” He snorted at that and had to slap Kyouraku’s palms off that were gripping up his sides already. Trying to paw at his skin underneath by pulling the lapels of his kimono, above the obi, sneakily open bit by bit. “Whatever would you have done if I hadn't returned at all? Whatever would you have done without your magnificent spender?”

How Kyouraku had managed, Sousuke didn’t know, but the shuffling of those grabby palms at his fabric, had him practically naked already. His kimono was hanging open like a bathrobe. And Kyouraku had delved in at the sight of his bare flesh, pressing kisses up his sternum, that made him arch his back at the prickly hairs of that beard. 

Anchoring Kyouraku in a halt by gripping the ends of his ponytail had Kyouraku’s head stilling. Warm breath and soft pressed kisses continued along Sousuke’s left pectoral. “I would find myself a benevolent donator,” Sousuke answered and threaded his hand further in the mess of hair entrapped in a ponytail. With a harsh tug, he started loosening the light blue scrunchie mercilessly. “One who is particularly well endowed.” He felt a warm puff of breath when he tugged it loose. He had gotten a good chunk of hair along with it. 

The wild mane of curls falling around Kyouraku’s shoulders renewed the heat coiling straight down. Tightening his balls.

“Gotcha!” Kyouraku murmured. “You want me cumming to you immediately.” he winked and Sousuke allowed the man nosing into the column of his neck to pepper kisses along his skin there.

Fuelled by the fire spreading in his own loins, he reestablished his grip in Kyouraku’s hair. “Secondly, by no means will I abide to a tasteless; ‘go get ready’.”

When Kyouraku chuckled, barely listening at all, he left the man’s lap.

Which had Kyouraku finally looking back at him, especially when he took his own sip of Kyouraku’s Cognac. The burn only kindled the fire in Sousuke. “Where is that nice gentleman? Where is all the effort you’re willing to do for me, grand spender?” 

Kyouraku was about to take the cup back from him, when Sousuke deliberately took a step back.

“Do you want me to take you out for dinner?”

“Shame, the last thing I want is a full dinner. At least if you’re expecting...” He let one side of the kimono drop from his shoulder, before taking another sip, setting the glass aside and dipping into Kyouraku’s reach to share the Cognac in a sweet kiss. He pulled back when it seemed he had encouraged Kyouraku to become grabby again. Letting the rest of the kimono glide down, he reminded Kyouraku, “I’ll be waiting...” 

He disappeared into his bathroom and locked the door for good measure.

\----

Sousuke did shower and prepare himself exactly to accommodate Kyouraku’s wish. But only because he now felt like he had the reigns in his hands.

Because when he left his bathroom, Kyouraku had yet to return.

Whatever Kyouraku would even come up with, it would undoubtedly pale in comparison to what he truly craved.

However, persuading Kyouraku to accommodate him instead of the other way around, left a part of him satisfied as well. Dignity restored, he could again focus on bringing his first victim closer to where Sousuke wanted him.

He hadn’t bothered with dressing, whatever meagre offer Kyouraku would bring, would be rewarded anyways. It was the thought that counted; the thought of directing Kyouraku. In the end, he would be calling the shots with all of his suitors after all.

Not knowing when Kyouraku would be returning, Sousuke soaked the kimono that he was washing before he was interrupted.

And the second his front door opened, he rechecked if his spare key was still hidden away. The metallic trinket was safe. Kyouraku had to have used other means.

He greeted his persistent intruder by leaning against his bathroom door with folded arms.

“You’re already dressed appropriately, I see.” Kyouraku praised lecherously with a once over on his naked body. “I approve.”

“Well...it depends what you have in store for me...” The bouquet of red flowers behind Kyouraku’s back was rather obvious. “Flowers? Not really original...” It had taken that long to simply get him a bunch of flowers?

“It’s one of your safe-words, I’m sure you can appreciate them.” Kyouraku put them aside on the table before picking one single rose out of the bouquet.

Appreciate? Certainly. The red colour of those petals spruced up his flat as much as the white ones did. The white ones had withered only a couple of days ago, they had lasted surprisingly long for fresh flowers. And he had managed to remind himself to refresh the water often enough.

Or at least he had bothered himself with that.

“Furthermore...” Kyouraku stuck the stem in his mouth while making another come hither motion.

It had him chuckling, genuinely. The sight of Kyouraku’s mock Casanova dance offer with an outstretched palm towards him was certainly...interesting.

And the second Sousuke palmed that offer, he was twirled around in two full circles to end up conveniently in Kyouraku’s arms. The movement had been a little rigid when he had to give up all control to the older man.

And certainly Kyouraku could have just pulled him in, either way, that inspiration on the spot admittedly touched him.

He was dipped with the arm that was tightly wound around his waist, encouraged to trust on Kyouraku’s support.

Sousuke wanted to laugh when the rose was urged to be taken with a nudge of Kyouraku’s lips against his. Mindful of the thorns, he took the flower from Kyouraku as their breath mingled. 

He was swept back up and before Kyouraku decided to lead him further in their dance, Sousuke picked the flower from his mouth. “Are the thorns supposed to be a metaphor?”

Kyouraku’s palms stilled on his hips. “Would you rather I would have used the cliched, ‘You’re as beautiful as a rose?’”

“Mhh.” Kyouraku chuckled at his monotonous murmur. “So you leave your fate in the hands of this rose?”

“Ah?”

Breaking off one of its deep red petals, Sousuke let the velvety texture twirl down to the ground. “You’ll get lucky tonight?” Before breaking off the next. “You won’t get lucky tonight?” 

Kyouraku flashed him a rueful smile. “Ah regrettably...” though the hands on his hips glided around him and down...

Sousuke ripped the next petal before it broke beautifully off when Kyouraku’s big hands kneaded his ass. Fingers squeezed his skin delightfully. “...You won’t get lucky tonight?” he plucked the next petal.

The hands on his ass pulled him closer, dissolving any space between their bodies and making one of the petals get stuck in Kyouraku’s chest hair.

“Cheating is unbecoming, Kyouraku-san.” he scolded while blowing the red petal out of the way. 

“This...” Sousuke saw Kyouraku’s incoming hand and though he tried to step back and hide the flower from the other man’s grasp, Kyouraku managed to grab a couple of the petals all at once.“would be considered cheating.” 

“You...” Kyouraku smirked and was already coming closer again with every step Sousuke took backwards. “...are disqualified.”

“Am I?”

Sousuke hit the edge of the table with his backside. Determined mind-set failing blatantly, he still continued with the silly rose plucking game, even though Kyouraku closed his body in with that broad frame. With Kyouraku zoning in, Sousuke made it a spectacle to deny him a kiss.

It naturally didn’t deter Kyouraku, it just changed the older man’s discourse to kissing his cheek. That light nibbling had Sousuke unconsciously turning his neck to which his jaw became the target of those wet kisses.

He had long since already forgotten the rose himself and he just threw it off to the side. His hands were itching to burrow into that wild mane again anyways.

“You know what I have come to realise...” Maybe an odd moment to come to that sudden realisation, but... 

“Mhh?” Kyouraku murmured into his neck.

“I do prefer long hair.”

Kyouraku momentarily stopped smooching his neck to look at him.

“I hadn’t noticed...” Kyouraku replied amusedly while almost prying his hands out of the long curls in order to encourage him into palming Kyouraku’s shoulders instead. “Just my hair though?” He ruined the mock quiver on Kyouraku’s bottom lip by covering those lips with his own.

Well...as his hands dived inside of Kyouraku’s clothes to touch that broad chest, burrowing into curls there, he could admit that, hair, was one of the appealing features of the older man, for sure.

His hands had pushed off the pink kimono that hung off of Kyouraku’s shoulders, so their lip-lock stopped momentarily as soon as Kyouraku noticed. The precious cloth was then folded in a nitpicky manner while Kyouraku’s haori was practically chucked off and thrown over a nearby chair.

The white cloth missed the chair blatantly...

“I’d like to know the sto-” Sousuke began to inquire.

Before his lips were sealed yet again.

That precious cloth...he will come to know the story of it someday. But it wasn’t urgent by any means.

In fact, there was something else that craved his attention, something that was steadily growing against his palm as soon as his hand cupped Kyouraku. The fabric of the other’s hakama needed to go, or he could just have his hand slip in through the openings...

His hands had to find purchase somewhere else when Kyouraku unceremoniously decided to lift him unto the table. Kyouraku had barely gripped the back of his thighs to literally throw him unto the table, or that was at least what it felt like. 

His dinner table protested with a load creaking sound and when Kyouraku then also spread his knees apart to take place in between them in order to press their hardening needs against each other, the rutting motions evoked similar sounds from the wooden surface beneath him.

“The table won’t hold-”

“It will.” Kyouraku decided with a finality, not really giving much more thought to the possibilityof them ending back up on the floor.

Sousuke could easily sink back into another kiss, but the fabric against his cock really needed to go now. Blindingly grabbing the waistband of Kyouraku’s hakama, he let it purposefully bounce back against the older man’s pelvis in order to make his message loud and clear.

Whether the message actually went through Kyouraku’s thick skull, that was a different matter. Because Sousuke felt another pull on his thighs and his ass was practically hanging over the edge, back flat against the surface of the table while his feet could probably touch the floor.

And with a second grab at his ankles, his feet were urged to spread on either side of the edge.

Sousuke decided to defy Kyouraku’s whims when his own weren’t heard and kept Kyouraku at a distance by nudging his heel into the other’s abdomen. Yet he abandoned that mission as soon as fingers glided over the sole of his foot. His escaping ankle was caught in Kyouraku’s grip.

With his free hand, Kyouraku finally tugged the belt, that kept his hakama in place, loose. At last, all of Kyouraku’s glory sprang free. He admired Kyouraku’s girthy cock and even reached out for a touch.

Kyouraku’s shihakusho was merely opened, with the lapels stubbornly pushed to the side.

But Sousuke couldn’t do much more than grab a hold of Kyouraku when kisses started from the sole of his foot to his knee. The teasing, slight ticklish sensation concentrated on the inner parts of his legs. Simultaneously also where he seemed to be the most sensitive.

He jerked Kyouraku’s cock halfheartedly when he seemed a little too entranced with his anticipated destination those lips were trailing off to.

Kyouraku only deviated from his path of kisses to nip at the skin of his calf in such a determined manner that the mark left behind afterwards could have rivalled the colour of Byakuya’s welts. 

Sousuke then almost eagerly bent his knee out of the way when Kyouraku’s head disappeared between his legs. He sighed at the featherlight kisses along his inner thigh. 

And he all but lost his grip around Kyouraku when Kyouraku’s warm palm grabbed his cock instead. He couldn’t contain his hips from canting upwards, begging for a firmer touch.

But, Sousuke wasn’t granted more than a couple of flicks of Kyouraku’s wrist. He looked explicitly, all but ready to redirect Kyouraku’s delicious fist. 

Yet when he felt Kyouraku’s wicked tongue running over his left asscheek, he turned his head. Rimming, he was no stranger to the feeling of a tongue creeping up into him, Gin had done that maybe a couple of times. The few times that they had engaged into foreplay that was, and they were so deeply hidden within his memories that he couldn’t decide whether he had liked it or not.

But his focus remained just a couple of seconds on the dark red petals of the roses next to him when Kyouraku grabbed his ass tightly. He felt Kyouraku’s fingers start to splay his cheeks apart, before a warm heat descended right into his core. His eyes closed almost automatically.

It had been just Kyouraku’s breath.

The sudden actual kisses pressed against his hole had him puckering up, twitching embarrassingly.

“You have a perfect ass.”

Sousuke practically felt those words hitting his skin. He opened his eyes again to look and let one of his feet leave its perch on the edge of the table to nudge Kyouraku again. An ultimate opportunity to keep him somewhat at bay. “What did you expect? I’m simply divine.”

It didn’t work for long, since his heel could barely brush Kyouraku’s shoulder or he felt fingers against his left thigh, urging to splay his legs apart once again. When he had seeminglysufficiently opened up, Kyouraku’s fingers teasingly trailed along his inner thighs and into the cleft of his ass. A sure rub of fingers against his sphincter had him quivering yet again.

But it couldn’t compare to the feeling of Kyouraku’s tongue soothing his hole.

Sousuke gasped at the firm noisy lapping. 

Though he was thorn between shutting his legs and pushing Kyouraku’s head if possible even closer, he could barely move. He still put his hand behind his head, trying to prop himself up in a manner that would be enough to monitor Kyouraku’s actions.

He couldn’t see much except his own eager erection and Kyouraku’s bend over form. Kyouraku’s head was out of sight, but Sousuke certainly felt that tongue...entering.

It was licking no longer around him but inside of him. A hot heat that literally filled him. 

His bicep became a good prop to keep himself quiet at that moment. He practically hid inside of his arm.

The addition of a caress over his perineum had his head hitting the surface of the table when he thrust it back. The sheer pleasure had him forgetting the small ache it brought. His cock was aching in a far more pressing manner.

Kyouraku’s fist then aided him with a rubdown, the friction was exactly what he needed. While that tongue writhed marvellously back into him.

“Yes!” Whether he did remember anything of Gin or not, it obviously paled in comparison to what Kyouraku was doing.

A particular lap into him had his cock agreeing with the certain direction Kyouraku was trying to reach into him and suddenly Kyouraku’s wrist was also pulling up and down faster, smoothly, with precum spreading moderately.

Kyouraku’s tongue then left him, regrettably, but it sought a way up his perineum to his cock. Where another part of his flesh was begging to be lavished by that tongue. He dared a look again, and just the image of all that hair wildly bouncing along to the rhythm, was a sight becoming of Kyouraku.

He most definitely preferred Kyouraku’s hair down.

When Kyouraku’s hand disappeared from around the base of his cock, Sousuke became aware of where that sneaky palm had trailed off to when semi dry fingers started prodding at his sphincter. The sure manner in which Kyouraku was trying to push a way into him, broke him temporarily out of his arousing fog.

The slight ache made him reach out in an instant between his legs, trying to get a hold of Kyouraku’s wrist. The touch had Kyouraku backing off, the cold air that hit his wet cock, had Sousuke twitching yet again.

“The oil can be found in the same closet where my futon is stored away.” Sousuke also motioned in the exact direction. It was a miracle that he actually could still speak a full sentence without stuttering.

But Kyouraku just casually shook his head and redirected his preventing grip to his own knees, as if urging to hold himself open for Kyouraku. Well the ache had had him closing that open access just a tiny bit.

“I prefer no artificial slick.” The prodding halted, just for Kyouraku to seemingly slick his fingers with the salvia covering Sousuke’s cock. Then he spit for good measure into his hand, before Sousuke felt those now slick fingers prodding further into him. “Jushiro was allergic to both water and oil based lube, but we still managed without it.” Kyouraku winked salaciously before descending back down. 

The returning heat around his cock was a needed distraction. It was already a feat to relax himself enough for the lube lacking intrusion, the talk about Kyouraku’s deceased ex, was something he could have definitely gone without.

But Kyouraku was careful, gentle. Each centimetre further pushed inside of him was halted to make him adjust. And Kyouraku’s mouth working him diligently lulled him back into a tense free pleasure.

By then, he had dropped back down unto the table, the sight of Kyouraku’s bobbing head was more than visible from his relaxed position.

Why yes, Kyouraku was right, it could work without lube, as long as precum and salvia was used in access instead.

When Kyouraku came back up and spit another time in his hand, Sousuke knew what was coming next. He watched how Kyouraku spread it over the head of his cock, the rather large head that would be filling him directly. The display lasted a minute until Sousuke was aware of Kyouraku’s gaze. He deliberately turned his head from that single eye that was crinkled in smug amusement. 

And he tried to force himself to relax when those fingers slowly left him. The red of the roses next to him became interesting once more.

Until, the breach.

Kyouraku and Byakuya couldn’t have been even more polar opposites than then. Laying with Byakuya had felt impersonal, cold almost, as if the intention of getting off was the only reason they had copulated. While with Kyouraku, despite their contract, Kyouraku actually made an effort to connect them beyond their pursuit to ecstasy.

He didn’t only forget to reopen his eyes, his sudden sharp intake of breath was the result of breathlessness. Purely because he had been expecting, waiting... 

As he accommodated the length filling him, Kyouraku began another descend of kisses along one of his legs while hands grabbed and caressed his skin with each gentle thrust into him. 

Sousuke barely remembered when the rhythm started, but his body might have given Kyouraku the signal to start. Either way, it started slowly. 

Kyouraku leaning into him and sealing their lips was another personal touch that he had missed with Byakuya. Never mind that Kyouraku’s tongue had searched his depths, it was an intimacy he craved at that point.

And with Kyouraku’s lips trailing down to his neck, Sousuke embraced Kyouraku, gripping those strong shoulder blades with a ferocity to keep them practically plastered against each other. The friction was everything to his weeping arousal. 

The pace fastened and so did the direction...

“Ah!” Exactly where he needed it the most. Yet when he made that clear with a gasped out, “There!” Kyouraku just had to seemingly double his efforts by moving harder and deeper into him. It missed...his spot blatantly. He let out a frustrated gasp and pushed a heel into Kyouraku’s lower back in order to fruitlessly steer him back... 

It only lodged Kyouraku deeper, whom seemed encouraged to thrust even faster.

He wanted to curse out the other man, but besides choked grunts he couldn’t say anything when the other’s weight practically crushed him.

At least he didn’t have to indulge himself entirely. Kyouraku’s hand returned around his cock, pulling in earnest to those thrusts. Sousuke wouldn’t be coming hands free, but he didn’t particularly need to.

The table began to protest their back and forth motions loudly.

But Sousuke barely heard the creaks when the feeling of Kyouraku’s cock never entirely leaving him, consumed his mind completely. And Kyouraku’s tight fist pulled him just right.

It ended all too soon for him either way.

Kyouraku was all too eager to catch sight of the mess he created and with Kyouraku straightening up, the angle changed. The unexpected brush against his prostrate squeezed the last bit of his release out. 

Sousuke didn’t feel Kyouraku coming, but it was apparent enough. The rumbled groan and hands that palmed his hips to lock him in place, were clear signals. 

The grip only loosened after the older man had seemingly caught his breath.

He grimaced when Kyouraku dislodged and kept lying down on the table while Kyouraku walked around to get his drink. He still felt practically numb down under, so he was fine with just coming down from their high. 

A good gulp of the Cognac barely had any liquid left in the cup, yet Kyouraku still offered it with a nudge into his direction. 

“Water.” Sousuke denied instead.

Although they had been so caught up into each other, the silence throughout his flat was maddening.

Ever the gentleman, when the occasion called for it, Kyouraku handed him a glass of water. Despite Kyouraku’s bad reputation, dating wise, the man had yet to wham bam and leave him right after. 

Yet...then why did it always feel so awkward right after?

He begrudgingly straightened slightly to drink. The cold water running down his throat reminded him of how thirsty he really was. 

“The table held, didn’t it?” Kyouraku demonstrated his fact by shaking the table, testing the boundaries of the wooden legs further.

He couldn’t tell why, but he was glad that Kyouraku spoke up.

“If it breaks right now I guarantee you that you’ll feel my wrath.” Falling on his ass wouldn’t exactly do any good to the soreness that would creep in either way.

Kyouraku smirked and shook the table some more, enacting louder creaks than before. “Is that so?”

He kicked in Kyouraku’s direction. “Better go fetch me a washcloth.” Yet it was only a disadvantage for himself when Kyouraku caught his ankle and practically yanked him off of the table. He felt that sudden movement...and it wasn’t pleasant at all.

And the feeling of Kyouraku’s cum running out of him was uncomfortable to say the least...

But it had Kyouraku moving along. Finally listening.

He heard a growled, “Ah!” and saw Kyouraku jumping on one leg while holding his other foot. “Those thorns are deadly...”

The stem of the rose that he had thrown off to the side was broken now and apparently the culprit to Kyouraku’s stumbling around.

“Vengeance my dear tastes so sweet.” he chuckled and had to dodge the rose being thrown into his direction.

Well...perhaps Kyouraku was right about the comparison...because his thorns will be nothing short of deadly.

He was still grinning when Kyouraku disappeared into the bathroom.

Time to put the roses into a vase, because they wouldn’t last long inside of that bouquet.

When Kyouraku returned, Sousuke was given a wash-down, more like rubdown, because the washcloth lingered a little too long on his nether regions. And when fingers pushed up into him, so called to cleanse him from the inside out, the sensitivity had Sousuke standing on tiptoes. He all but shoed Kyouraku away, claiming he was clean enough.

He tucked himself fast into a fundoshi, the only dry cloth he had still lying around. It didn’t do much to ward off Kyouraku’s teasing grabs at his cheeks, but it was some form of security.

“Make yourself useful and scrub down the table.” he delighted in making Kyouraku do things his way.

When Kyouraku had turned to the kitchen, he thought for sure, the older man was complying. Yet when he finally noticed that Kyouraku was going to boil some water for his tea, he relented and poured Kyouraku another cup of Cognac. 

Maybe, it wasn't so awkward after all. 

-0-

It was a fucking dragon.

A huge monstrous greenish-brown beast with scales all over. It didn’t even give off the energy close enough to be put in the category of a reptile like Hollow.

If it was, it had fucking mutated.

It spit raging fire all over. Even Sakanade wouldn’t be able to reverse the direction of the flames since it set everything ablaze in a second.

High Kidou shields melted as if enveloped by molten lava and Kidou attacks didn’t even get through those thick leather like scales. 

Every time it would open its maw in rage at the spells that merely prodded and poked the beast, it retaliated even further. And each time, they were met with a tsunami of fire.

Momo was still standing by his side though, one of the only ones. Shinji had lost half of his team and the rest were either nursing their freaking third degree burns or fighting a losing battle. Reiatsu systems couldn’t handle the heat, never mind the Binding Chain and Soul Sleep that simply melted like steel. 

The Souls that stepped in to stop the flames with water from the nearby water-tower were practically kindling the flames. It seemed like oil, it was like fuel. 

“We need backup!”

“No!” he yelled back to one of his seated members. Ain’t no way that he was giving up this easy! 

There was still something he could try; slaying the beast with one of his own. 

He dreaded using his mask, he had his Hollow under control that wasn’t the problem. But, it still wouldn’t separate friend from foe...

Whatever, he had no other choice. Besides five minutes were hardly going to ravage the rest of his team members. Or what remained of his team for that matter... 

-0-

‘Coward’, Sousuke thought, when it wasn’t Urahara that was checking his reiatsu on Wednesday, but some seated lab-rat instead. A woman at that.

He was surrounded by guards during the proceedings as if they were afraid that he would maul her at any minute. If anything, it were the men, that had to watch their back.

He had looked forward to establish something with Urahara, but apparently his kiss had been too bold of a move.

His mood had plummeted drastically, which was not a good incentive to work on his potential bond victims. 

When he exited the 12th division, he was greeted, “Aizen!” not even two metres from the science department. Ichigo running towards him shoved his irritation towards Urahara, for the moment, aside. 

The boy had an affect on him, he couldn’t deny that.

“I said we could go for a drink on Saturday, but is now also okay?”

He scrutinised that slight uncertainty.

Was Ichigo becoming impatient already or was that hopeful wishfulness on his part?

Yet, how could he possibly deny such a radiant personality?

“I kind of forgot that I had already promised Inoue that I would come visit her.”

Sousuke felt his irritation bubbling right back up at that. 

Inoue Orihime. Oh yes... 

He had completely forgotten about her himself. How could he though, he had even used her plainly as bait to reel in Ichigo... 

But she posed a threat now if Ichigo had any affections for her.

“Oh I couldn’t possibly disturb your date.” he inquired subtly.

Ichigo fervently denying it with a shake of his head was the response he was looking for. “No! A friend, she’s also just a friend.”

Good. 

“But I promised, you know...”

“I understand.” he smiled reassuringly, “Lead the way.” which evoked a responding smile on Ichigo’s face.

\----

Ichigo’s choice of establishment was a major let down; a cheap bar that attracted tons and tons of Gotei soldiers. With beer at half price, the place was packed as if it was already the end of the workday or Friday at that...

Sousuke wisely slunk between the full tables on the terrace outside to the entrance. The warm weather had most preferring a spot outside.

He garnered attention either way, he was Aizen Sousuke, after all. And he had Soul Society’s golden boy at his side.

Ichigo either ignored the looks they were given or he was completely oblivious.

He picked one of the tables in the back as Ichigo walked up to the bar. The barflies sitting in the front completely swarmed Ichigo in an instant, eager for the latest gossip. 

The boy could stand his ground though, so he swept his gaze over the menu. Which as expected, hadn’t much to offer either.

When Ichigo returned, he was carrying a mug, of what he presumed -hoped- was tea and a beer.

“So you do drink?” Ichigo’s resolute, ‘but no alcohol’ rule had fallen quickly. 

“On occasions...” Ichigo nodded. “I think the Gotei 13 teaches everyone to drink.”

He gave a wry smile. Perhaps someone with no backbone could be easily persuaded into a certain direction, yes.

Certainly not him though.

And certainly not with something as cheap and tasteless as beer.

“But I paid this time!” Ichigo stuck out his tongue playfully. “How does that feel mister prideful?”

So that was why Ichigo offered himself up to take their orders...

He chuckled. “If you do tenaciously cling to the concept of returning the favour, I had at least expected a fancy teahouse.” 

Ichigo pointed at his mug and begrudgingly said, “There’s your tea.”

“The only tea available...” He took a sniff of the fruity scent. “Strawberry flavoured?”

“Can it yeah! It’s cran-.”

Despite Ichigo’s brusque answer it was coupled with his face taking on a red tinge. But it was far from anger, it was embarrassment due to the name play that was probably a repeated occurrence in Ichigo’s life.

“-berry.” he finished. He had seen the menu.

Not exactly his favourite, but did he really have to complain? Not everyone could have Kyouraku’s taste for fancy restaurants. Or afford it for that matter. Sadly.

“It’s fine.” he reassured. No need to break down the boy’s confidence...just yet. 

“Anyway...” Ichigo set the cup he was provided aside to drink straight from the bottle. “...I actually wanted to ask you something last time, but then I got distracted by something I had wanted to ask before that...”

Ichigo preferring him over Urahara for information? Classic. If Sousuke hadn’t been sure of being able to wind the boy around his fingers yet, it was clear now. 

“In other words, I have become your unofficial guru.”

Ichigo avoided looking into his direction then and redirected his gaze to the bar instead. “I’m not naive, I’m sure your hints about my Quincy heritage or me being a Shiba, was very convenient for you... So you could try and draw a wedge between me and my father.”

When Ichigo took another sip straight from the bottle, Sousuke simply reached over to grab the bottle. “What?!...” The bit of beer that escaped Ichigo’s mouth at his sudden lunge over, was quickly wiped away by the youngster’s kimono sleeve.

“Have some sort of class.” He scolded.

The image of Ichigo drinking straight from the bottle was an unbecoming one, it reminded him needlessly of the lowlife barflies around them. He therefore poured the beer into the cup that had been provided.

Ichigo was looking at him with confused wide eyes and he even shifted his eyes nervously through the room to make sure that that moment hadn’t been caught by anyone else in the bar. 

“Your father did not protect you at all by keeping your heritage a secret, in fact he endangered you. You could have been prepared for the Quincy war ages before Bach even showed up. It surprises me that your precious mentor hadn’t done any effort to-”

“Okay, no!” Ichigo even shook his hands along to his negation. “That’s not why I’ve come here for...”

No, perhaps that was not the right method... He had even dubbed that as a subject best not approached in their first meeting, but now, even with Ichigo willingly coming to him, it was apparently still best cast aside.

He had to take a sip of his tea to swallow his own frustration in order to sooth Ichigo with a meaningless, “I’m sure they had their reasons.”

Ichigo nodded, before clearing his throat. “But, that’s kind of what I wanted to ask...” he then lowered his voice so Sousuke had to lean a little closer to even hear the mumbled, “Do I have any ties to another Soul Realm?”

If so...then it was as much of a surprise to Sousuke as to the youngster opposite him. Although he prided himself in having extensive knowledge on the boy, so anything having passed him, would be an insult to his pride as well. 

“Not that I know of. The chance that anyone has any ties to another Soul Realm is pretty much nihil, Kurosaki-san. You are not the only Shinigami with Quincy genes, let’s make that obvious, I’m sure that you are aware of Soul Society’s proud history of persecuting the Quincies?” Ichigo grimaced. “Rape is also a weapon used by men, so be glad that you were not the result of such a...forced love.”

“And besides...Quincies?”

“Then we are talking about at least a millennia ago.” If it hadn’t been even longer... It had been centuries for him, -since his academy years- that he had immersed himself into Shinigami history. His own future and the steps he had to take to get there were far more important than what had happened in the past. “Truces were luckily the end result in such cases along with closing one’s gates to accept each other’s territory.”

“But someone could still have like a great, great, great grandfather that originated from another realm that could result in him or her having super foreign powers?” Ichigo prompted with a big smile. 

That wild imagination...

“If that would be the case, I’m sure you know how genetics work?”

Ichigo scoffed. “Of course.”

“Then the inherited percentage of those almighty powers as you worded it would have been diminished to nothing by now. You’re an exception of course, Kurosaki-san, depending on who you will have a child with...” technically speaking, since he wouldn’t allow Ichigo to take that route. “Although let’s be honest here, the war has annihilated nearly all Quincy now and breeding with Hollows, another species altogether, is not possible yet. So the chance that you will have a son or a daughter with a Quincy or a Hollow is very small. A Shinigami partner or a human one are likely more probable partners and then the percentage of Hollow and Quincy powers in that child will only be half of what you possess, if it’s not even lower than that. Not everyone can be as almighty as you are. You’re an exception.”

Ichigo had been rendered speechless by his compliments because not a word came out of the boy. Instead a foolish grin had settled in place.

That was the difference between them actually. Ichigo was lucky and should be thankful for that matter that Sousuke had succeeded in the Hollowfication process of his mother. Because of him, Ichigo was one of a kind.

While Ichigo got lucky, Sousuke himself was a prodigy. He was simply a God, unsurpassable....

Well, that was if Ichigo’s powers had reached their maximum capacity...

“So...you won’t suddenly tell me in a few weeks; ‘you’re a wizard, Kurosaki-san?’”

Now he was the one that had been rendered speechless. Had Ichigo done even some sort of effort to listen to him?

Because the boy then burst into a laugh and shook his hand as if he could wipe away what he had just said.

“It’s like a...joke in the human world. It’s from a movie actually.”

He took another sip from his immensely sweet tea, preferring to remain silent instead.

Apparently all of his BloodBond victims were awkward in one way or another.

“If I may ask, why are you suddenly so interested in your heritage?”

“The mission I went on was in another realm...the wizardry one...” Ichigo paused a second and that frown took over on those amused features as if he was contemplating. “And the queen there was a little too interested in me.”

Mission in another realm? Why would Soul Society open their gates willingly to intruders?

“Well I would imagine so, you are extraordinary after all.” With such a power it was almost a given that Ichigo would garner the interest of not only himself.

“I don’t like that attention.”

So humble...

A Hellbutterfly suddenly interrupted their conversation when it fluttered specifically at Ichigo’s side.

Lisa’s voice protruded from the communicator, ‘Shinji’s mission was a fiasco, he’s in the fourth division, hall 6.’ 

Ichigo was already straightening up before her voice stopped sprouting from the insect. “I have to go.”

He couldn’t even say anything in return.

Shinji had been wounded?

He put his hand in the air, near the butterfly. For a moment the insect was hovering above his palm, considering perching on his skin, but it dissolved before it could even make contact.

Well...he had to make his way over to the fourth division. The perfect opportunity to gain Shinji's trust with the notion that he cared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Do you like uke Aizen? Shipping Aizen or do you just like Aizen in general? (I know you do! Else you wouldn’t be reading this) Then come join the almighty Aizen discord server!! Go to huevo-mundo.tumblr.com (An amazing Aizen artist) and DM her that you’re interested in the Aizen discord.  
A/N: Grimmjow, Grimmjow, where are thou?


	15. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter has torture, if such a scene would squick you, please don’t read the part after ****** 

**Chapter 15 Fire: **

The two guards looked at each other and then merely shrugged Sousuke off.

Urahara Kisuke did not wish to see him?

We’ll see about that...

Sousuke was not going to be simply shoved aside by Urahara a second time that day. And certainly not by the guards of the twelfth. 

“I assure you, it’s quite urgent.” he said.

The guy standing guard on the left side of the gates of the twelfth took a threatening step into his direction. Trying to impose Sousuke with his burly built. A meaty finger was then jabbed into his shoulder, “One, Urahara is an assistant, not a captain, I don’t do his bidding, and I definitely won’t listen to your chitchat.” Sousuke figuratively wiped away that filthy touch and took a step back, if only to avoid any drops of spit from the other’s intruding presence. “Second, you have even less to seek here, take your lying and traitorous cunt outa here bitch, before I remove you myself.”

Lovely... 

** **

Yet, was it worth all the commotion to get inside? He needed Urahara to visit Shinji. Kyouka Suigetsu had been simply a blessing. And it was only now, living without the help of his Zanpakuto, that he had come to appreciate all of Kyouka Suigetsu’s past efforts. 

He took another step back, a stumbling step while grasping the place where his Binding Chain centred. Taking a few dramatic gasps for good measure he cried out, “My reiatsu!... I feel...it awakening!...”

What it didn’t take to fool people these days...

But it worked. Or at least the genuine fear of it happening shook the two awake. The guy who had tried to intimidate him before, looked worriedly over at his companion, and after some mumbles, -which Sousuke could barely hear in the midst of his...spectacle- the guard disappeared inside. 

The other one was no longer blocking his path, in fact Sousuke could have easily made his way into the 12th himself. 

Making a career as a guard was nothing short of a fallback for most failing Academy students. Not to be mistaken for Royal Guards, who did receive prestige and had to take special training. Those endeavouring to become a Royal Guard had to have aced all Academy courses and then be chosen by the second division to proceed into a decade long indoctrination before even considered eligible to become a Royal Guard.

As such, Gotei Guards were anything but considered as prestigeos. And more often also not that smart.

And his ‘acting’ shouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out he was faking. His reiatsu wasn’t exactly leaking, which given his own marvellous power levels, should have been more than prominent by any bystander in the neighbourhood. 

Those in his vicinity would have long since been vaporised by the sheer pressure of his reiatsu if that were the case. The couple of metres between him and the last guard standing would have been the man’s death wish.

However, he continued his charade, soon to be quite literally out of breath with the forced inhales he had to take, yet the second Urahara arrived with a Shunpo, he quit his theatrics. “Oh Urahara-san, so nice...of you to be willing to see me.” he couldn't help his slight breathlessness.

Urahara didn’t exactly mimic his enthusiasm and with an annoyed glance at the guy that had taken to standing guard at the wall instead of the gates, Sousuke was nudged inside.

Sousuke would have loved to see the twisted features of the guard himself, but Urahara was persistent into making him come along.

“I must have given the wrong signals,” he tried to shrug off Urahara’s hold on his forearm, but the blond didn’t let go. “I did need to talk to you, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be in private.”

“Your reiatsu will be checked.” Urahara said, hardly even looking at him.

“Again? I don’t see the point in that. Or was Michi...Michiko...-”

“Midori.” Urahara corrected brashly.

“Was she incompetent?” 

They were walking through the halls of the 12th, so they were bound to come upon the guard who had alerted Urahara. Sousuke wasn’t even trying to uphold anything of his charade by then so the man practically balked when seeing him casually... -lead by Urahara of course- walking. The man changed course towards him almost instantly.

But Urahara’s, “It’s fine, Gorou.” accompanied with a pointed finger directed at the end of the hallway had the man snorting in disgust and cursing something unintelligently. Commanded like a dog, Gorou presumably went back to his post as guard dog. 

He was still silently amused at the display until he was aware of Urahara’s solid expression.

“You know, if you don’t trust your subordinat-...I mean Mayuri’s subordinates.” Urahara’s eye roll while he indirectly mentioned Mayuri’s superiority, had Sousuke unconsciously convulsing, though he could prevent from laughing directly in the other’s face. “Then I suggest you do it yourself next time. Depend on yourself, then you’re certain your trust is put in a good cause.” 

Urahara didn’t even fully listen or he was made to follow along again.

“Or don’t tell me, you were actually convinced of my act?”

“There you say it Aizen, your act.” Urahara stopped in order to fully face him. Those grey eyes glinted brightly in the reflection of the lights in the hallway. But heavy under-eye circles and those scarring threads ruined the allure. “You should have become an actor Aizen.”

“Well thank you, I’m flattered.” he palmed his heart but Urahara’s mock flattery then revealed its true nature. 

“Too bad Kyouka Suigetsu is missing for some authenticity.” venom wasn’t only noticeable in Urahara’s narrowed eyes, but his tone alone constrained with aggravation.

The kiss hadn’t done any good whatsoever...

“Is that so?” Sousuke decided then and there to exploit that possibility further. “You never know with me after all, you might be under hypnosis now, it deludes all senses.” A genuine fear of everyone. 

Normally...

But Urahara just smiled suddenly, “You know,” and leaned into him even though the hallway was completely empty. A quiet mumble of, “I have access to locked Zanpakuto, not officially of course, but unlike you I have friends in high places.” followed. 

Sousuke did listen, but he also made general use of their proximity to draw Urahara even closer. He was about to initiate their second kiss, when Urahara’s whisper against his lips continued, “And you know what Kyouka Suigetsu told me?”

Kyouka Suigetsu did not talk to Urahara. The mere notion did halt their impending lip-lock completely though.

“He’s so done with your despicable and manipulative tricks.” he still felt Urahara’s breath hitting his face, but the context of the words made him take a deliberate step back. “You discarded Kyouka Suigetsu for the Hogyoku, you think your Zanpakuto is simply going to swallow that betrayal? There might be a reason why your hypnosis didn’t fully function on Bach.” 

Sousuke shook his head. “No.” Absolutely not, he had had full access to Kyouka’s abilities, there was no way he couldn’t have seen...

Urahara this time closed their distance. “I don’t need to be afraid anymore of you reuniting with Kyouka Suigetsu, because he discarded you.”

It shouldn’t have deterred him whatsoever, Kyouka Suigetsu was loyal to him. Yet he couldn’t contain the natural outburst that followed. “Lies!” He pushed Urahara back, punched Urahara back actually, right in the sternum and it regrettably did nothing but knock the wind out of him.

A breathed ‘oomph’ was followed by a mocking smile. “Not only the Hogyoku rejected you, but so did your Zanpakuto.”

In reaction Sousuke took a full swing with his left fist, now aimed at Urahara’s smiling face. And when his punch was easily blocked by an elbow, he threw out another hit with his right one. Urahara’s blocking did more damage than any of his own attempts though. But pure fury made Sousuke barely acknowledge the pain in his knuckles.

He just wanted to land a hit. Make Urahara feel his retribution!

Yet his mindless hooks were restricted by kidou not a second later. 

His thudding heartbeat dulled his senses and he struggled uselessly against his bonds.

“Truth is you don’t see the hurt you cause,” Sousuke could have spit at the pitiful look Urahara was giving him, but he had more class than that. “but it’s bound to come back like a boomerang.” 

He refused to hear Urahara’s supposed wisdom. Kyouka Suigetsu was still loyal to him, as long as he hadn’t been confronted by his Zanpakuto’s own betrayal, Kyouka was his. His Zanpakuto was ought to adhere him after all, he was the handler! 

“Release me!”

“Only when you calm down.”

He despised being strung up, made to behave almost on display. And worse: the fact that it was Urahara that was complete calmness in itself while his own resolve had broken down.

Multiple members of the 12th had walked passed by then and in that instant Sousuke realised it was time to curtain his emotions with indifference again.

It took a while longer before Urahara finally allowed him to move freely. And he was naturally lead to Urahara’s lab to get his reiatsu checked.

And while it was his intention to take it further with Urahara, right now he was just fine with the messy desk in between them. At least the scent of iodoform would cover up anything that was rotting away underneath the disorganising pile of documents, flasks, burners and eyedroppers. 

The results of the reiatsu reader was thrown in his general direction, on the pile of junk on Urahara’s desk. It teetered on an empty test-tube rack, Sousuke had to take a hold of the chart when it threatened to slip down. 

Urahara hadn’t even glanced twice at the results. “There is nothing noteworthy about your Reiatsu.”

“Did you expect something else?”

“Well...Midori did mention a certain peak...but I know better now than to question that.” 

Oh yes his rage towards Urahara was still very much prevalent, but then again, he would also lament not taking the opportunity to steer their relationship in a certain direction.

So he got off the stool to approach the other near the reiatsu reader. Urahara immediately turned to face him and with the way Urahara’s bad posture straightened in an instant, he knew he had Urahara walking on his tiptoes. Anticipating...

“Is that so? Can you imagine what I did to receive that climax?”

Sousuke wanted to reach out to Urahara, a simple touch of his palm on the other’s chest, it never failed to intimidate. But, the ache left behind by Urahara’s bony elbows became suddenly vividly clear. The back of his palms hurt and his knuckles were bruised. He tugged on the coat of Urahara’s upper sleeve to inspect the other’s elbow, his lab coat was still the same dirty white colour. Not a smear of his blood visible while the skin on Sousuke’s knuckles was chafed... 

Urahara’s eyes followed his movements closely, obediently undergoing his inspection.

“Mhh?” he inquired again, yet Urahara kept watching him intently. He even underwent Sousuke’s hand slowly inching upwards, along his bicep to sneak into the lab-coat. There Sousuke let his palm rest upon the left side of Urahara’s chest. The brush of the coat against his bruised knuckles didn’t matter anymore, because the prominent beating underneath his hand was a delightful sign of the other’s nervousness. “Whatever are you conjuring up in that brilliant mind of yours?” He let his palm softly thud along to the rhythm. “It sounds exhilarating...”

He was about to let his other palm sneak into the right side of Urahara’s lab-coat, but his wrists were caught and he was pushed down unto the surface of the desk behind him. Papers fluttered down to the ground and the sound of a flask crashing into a gazillion of pieces echoed loudly. He practically laid sprawled, with his wrists held down on either side of his head. The raw knuckles of his left hand came in contact with something that made him hiss and a certain hardened edge was digging into his back while Urahara nestled in between his legs. “...a rush of excitement...”

He angled his head, trying to reach for a kiss, but Urahara’s face remained stubbornly out of touching distance. Those grey eyes were locked unto his lips though. But all Urahara did was grab unto his chin to push him seemingly back down.

Which meant that one of his wrists was free. Sousuke took that gracious opportunity to remove the other’s hold. He didn’t get further than lifting his hand when Urahara grabbed unto his wrist again.

“I desire another man taking control.” he admitted freely in one breath. He locked Urahara in closer with a leg winding around the other’s back. He felt Urahara’s muscles tensing in response and for a moment it seemed like Urahara was backing off...

But Urahara’s lips neared instead, hesitating just a couple of centimetres above his.

He wanted to seal the last bit of space, but he just couldn’t...reach. The hold on his wrists kept him down and when he strained his neck to reach up, Urahara stubbornly pulled back a bit.

He yielded and let himself drop back down with a frustrated moan. Was it going to be this endless push and pull between them?

No sooner had he thought that or Urahara’s lips crashed unto his. Blond strands practically blinded him as Urahara turned his head to deepen the kiss immediately. Sousuke could almost smell the desperation coming off of Urahara as a tongue slid intently against his.

In fact those lips remained tightly pressed against his, urging him to respond. 

Sousuke was eagerly undergoing that onslaught and even pushed the back of his knee deeper into Urahara’s back to align them just right. A roll of Urahara’s hips against his hardening need had Sousuke breaking apart for a shuddering breath. A slight medicinal taste lingered on his tongue. 

He felt Urahara’s lips kiss along his jaw instead: needy and urgent! He let his head drop back, feeling those nips move along his neck, when the clock against the wall evaporated any pleasure in an instant. 

16:50h?! Patient visits would be over in about an hour.

He suddenly bucked against Urahara for a whole other reason and tried to loosen the hold on his wrists.

His struggles alerted Urahara in an instant though to which he backed off, still leaning over Sousuke. Sousuke’s wrists were no longer pinned when Urahara supported his weight on the desk instead. “What?” Wide grey eyes were focusing on anything but his own, but Sousuke could still see the unfocused confusion.

“I came for Shinji actually-”

No sooner had he said that or Urahara had backed off entirely, now clearly watching him owlishly. “What?!” 

“He lies in the fourth division, that’s the only thing I know.” The crunch of glass splinters on the ground echoed as Urahara took a step back as soon as Sousuke straightened up from his sprawled position. “But I need you as a chaperone to get in to-”

“You need me...” Urahara crooked a finger as if to assign himself, before figuratively waving off his words and then even turned his back.

Their frustration had taken on a whole other mood...

“Why on all Realms would Shinji even want you there? Why would you even want to be there in the first place?!”

Sousuke took a step forward, sandals crunching up the glass shards underneath his feet even further. He palmed the back of Urahara’s shoulder but his hand was brusquely shrugged off. “Believe it or not I do deeply regret all that I did wrong, the least I can do is show my support now.”

Urahara turned back to face him, his lab coat practically billowed behind him, full of ferocious energy. “Are you kidding me?!”

“I’m very since-” but Urahara cut him off before he could even imply his sincerity.

“Shinji would **not** want you there.” Urahara’s jaw was clenched tightly shut, gaze glowering. “Who was it that had to clean up your mess all the time?! I had to patch up the Visoreds and give them back the meaning of life, it was **I** that had to initiate a Curse between Isshin and Masaki, so Ichigo’s mother could live. And then you have the audacity to come here and say you’re regretting all that?!” Urahara’s expression then fell into that pitying look, together with that tense posture, he almost hung his shoulders in defeat. “Which is only part of what you did...” Urahara waved his hand again.

Was that sob story supposed to impress him? Sousuke actually **gave** the Visoreds meaning to life throughout the Hollowfication process. And Ichigo sure wasn’t complaining about his ‘given’ power.

“Well, that is nice of you, we are a great team.” which was the only thing he could utter in response. What else was he to say? He could have gone on with his fake past regrets in order to gain some trust from Urahara. But the other’s emotional state would be preventing any positive impact. And the truth was that he was right and Urahara was wrong.

“We are no team!! We never were, I have nothing and want nothing to do with your despicable acts Aizen!”

“Don’t act like you’re holier than me,” Urahara’s eyes narrowed in rage, he even didn’t have his reiatsu in control anymore, because it filled up the lab suffocatingly quick. “because you’re not. You created the Hogyoku first my friend.”

Urahara shook his head. “I’m not your friend, Aizen.” He didn’t even do the effort to deny any ill intentions with the Hogyoku, a heavy sigh and a finger pointed at the door signalled the exit.

“No, not a friend,” He did follow Urahara’s pointed finger to the door, but he didn’t leave just yet. Not without a reminder of what had just happened minutes prior. “but then I wonder why you kissed me in the first place?”

“Just go, Aizen!”

Maybe a push in the direction of jealousy? “I guess I’ll ask Kyouraku-san instead to chaperone m-” 

“Sure, get down on your knees while you’re at it, you need something to convince him of your true intentions.”

He glanced back at Urahara when he heard the crunching of glass again, but the splinters were already being brushed into a pile of glass.

...

That, had turned into an utter disaster.

Worse was that he had to walk all the way to the first division to lure Kyouraku into accompanying him, which would make him lose precious time. Visiting hours would be long since over. And although Kyouraku as Captain Commander would undoubtedly have some privileges, Sousuke wasn’t particularly in the mood for mooching or even smooching his way into the fourth.

But there was still another way in which he could show Shinji he ‘cared’...

-0-

Shunsui inspected the lined up captains in the first division’s hall. His pacing through them was watched with spectators’ eyes.

“You all know why I summoned you here.”

Some crew he had here in front of him...

Kenpachi was leaning a little too heavily unto his sword, the thin Zanpakuto looked close to a bend and breaking point under the captain’s weight. The last drinking party in the 11th was still wafting off of him. 

Byakuya was the exact opposite, the sixth was his emotionless self, impassively rigid, his fellow noble seemed ready to attend a formal gathering in the headquarters of Central instead of waiting on the next mission. Or he could be uncomfortable because he was standing in between Yoruichi and Kenpachi...

Byakuya’s sister was eagerly awaiting her next orders while her scowling orange haired vice-captain spoke impatiently up, “Has it something to do with Shinji?”

That youthful fierce attitude...

Shunsui shook his head indecisively to give some sort of answer.

Except Kenpachi’s grumbled, “Is this shit over yet?!” the rest had underwent the suspense he unconsciously created.

Only when Toshiro arrived along with unseated officers, did he tell the details. Else he had to explain it more than once, and he wanted it to be over just as soon as the lot of them. He had better things to do...

“As you all know the mission that the fifth division’s captain was assigned to, failed. The dragon is still rampaging trough East Rukongai, but it’s nearing the borders of the North quickly. Commonly known as a location of best interest to Central,” best interest profitably. “so you can imagine the kind of orders that I received.”

Kenpachi’s interest had piqued suddenly since he straightened his slouching posture. “Slay the beast!” 

He gave an acknowledging nod. “While it wasn’t initially a big problem, since it helped in restoring the balance that was long since due, it’s destroying too many disposable Souls and the balance is teetering again regarding the Hollow side.” he had seen Ichigo’s scowl intensifying at his speech, but that was protocol in Soul Society. If the youngster had any ambition in becoming a captain, he better accept that sacrifice quickly.

“Byakuya and Yoruichi, speed in shunpo is very much appreciated, your task will be to distract the dragon. Remember, Kidou is useless against the animal, so safe your breath in advanced spells, because you’ll get burned.” His fellow nobles seemed ready to Shunpo right out of the Hall.

“Kenpachi and Ichigo you’ll both be acting as manpower today,” he gave a quick wink in the direction of the women in the Hall, just so they didn’t need to feel offended by his remark. “Pure strength seems the only way to go.” he focused solely on Ichigo then. “But according to reports Shinji’s Hollow did manage to do some damage...”

Ichigo’s responding look turned unfocused for a second there as if he seemed to be conversing inwardly. 

He then turned to the group he hadn’t yet addressed. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re surrounded by a whole bunch of fellow ice and water based Zanpakuto wielders, and the mission is simple: extinguish the raging fires because it’s getting out of hand.”

The true fear of Central lay in the probability of the fire spreading to the North. All the other wind directions of the Rukongai could have gone up in flames, no problem, but not the most profitable one.

“One more advice before I let you all go: beware not to get burned, because apparently it’s permanent.”

-0-

The first thing Shinji noticed when he woke up was something white surrounding his left vision. When he was about to get rid of that, the feeling of the fabric made him think it were bandages. 

Okay, made sense, he was apparently in the hospital. And he had had a lot of visitors already, judging by the cards and snacks on the end table next to his bed. His gaze immediately went to the one that had a full moon pictured on the front. For some reason the image alone made his heartbeat quicken.

But the words only initiated near disappointment?

It read: ‘It matches you Baldy!! Get out of the fourth soon or I will come and kick you out!!!!!’

Hiyori...

Who else had he expected... It made him practically mad at himself that he had hoped for one second that it could have been that bastard’s. 

Why she was so adamant on still calling him baldy because of the one incident when Aizen shaved his head, was crazy. But she was a little crazy so there.

But just that little reminder of it being one of Aizen’s many stunts as his vice-captain infuriated him. Aizen...everything went back to Aizen!

He took a look at the next card and it was scribbled with the same sort of get well wishes, just like the dozen of other ones probably. Though just a lot more politely formulated when it came from one of his subordinates in the fifth.

His team... Momo... Were they alright?

Because the last thing he remembered was firing off a Zero, aimed at the beast’s fire spitting maw, but that was that.

Glad in his hospital gown, he was ready to get some answers. Yet when he drew back the curtain around his bed, he was surprised to be lying in the hall. That surprise dwindled fast though. Of course, captain he may be, but his Hollow-qualities...didn’t receive him any privileges at all. 

Another leftover of Aizen’s antics, thanks!!! 

And the hall was packed, twenty other beds must have been squished into the room. He couldn’t tell how many were crammed into the space when the white curtains covered up the exact number of beds. 

He looked around for one of the nurses but his gaze landed upon Urahara Kisuke who was walking directly towards him. Another one who was probably also ready to give him his get well soon wishes, in person that was, because he had nothing on hand it seemed.

“Have ye seen one of the nurses?” 

Kisuke shook his head and motioned him to get back in bed. “But I think you aren’t allowed to get out of the fourth just yet.”

“I feel fine!” he snapped as soon as Kisuke was about to steer him back to the bed. Which made the other back off. When Kisuke took a place on his bed, Shinji remained standing in front of him, hands folded. “It ain’t that bad anyways.” The bandages made it look bad, he was sure of that, because he didn’t feel anything. “Ye got any news on my team?”

The heavy sigh that left Kisuke gave him enough answers. The look he was given made it even worse.

“Even Momo?”

“No, she had some minor burns, but she’s fine.”

At least there was that. “I screwed up, big time. Ye thin’ that’s gonna cost me my position?”

Kisuke shook his head. “No, how else is Central going to get rid of you?”

Yeah, funny, but that was exactly their intent. If he wasn’t so sure of the dragon being a otherworldly monster, he would have thought Central had arranged the whole ordeal...

When the skin just above his jaw itched he scratched briefly underneath the bandages, but the texture of his skin made him recoil back from that action.

Kisuke was rummaging through his lab-coat at that point. “I’ve brought you some self-made restoring salve, it’s not a miracle by any means, but it helped reduce my scars somewhat.” 

“What?”

“The burns, it will scar...” Kisuke then seemed to realise his confusion.

Scar?

His face got burned, through the mask??!!

Shinji almost moved on autopilot to get to the nearest mirror. Kisuke was following him hastily, he could hear his resounding footsteps behind him.

When he finally reached the restroom door, he slammed it open. And before he was well into the room he had already began to pick apart the bandages with trembling hands.

It looked ugly and swollen! Like he had a third or fourth layer of skin. It was basically a charred opened flesh wound that ran from his jaw almost to the crown of his head. Part of his bangs were blatantly cut off and he looked quite literally partly bald now. 

Only his left side for some reason... Also only his face. Why couldn’t it have been any other part of his body?!

He inspected himself by basically undressing in the middle of the restroom so he could check for certainty. No, just some minor burns here and there. Except some blistering it didn’t look that bad...

But his face...

Just his luck!

He punched the sink in frustration and his vision suddenly got blurry, watery... No! He refused to cry, for fucks sakes, he had been through rougher times!!

He still saw the outline of Kisuke nearing, and he shrugged off the hand that palmed his shoulder, even before Kisuke could lay a hand on him. The last thing he wanted was sympathy!!

When Kisuke offered him his fallen hospital gown, he reluctantly took the fabric from him to put it back on. He was already a pathetic sight at the moment, his Hollow practically growled in agreement, no need to have anyone walk in on his despair.

He had to support himself on the sink and take a few deep breaths to wash away the frustration. Why did it have him breaking down anyways? It wasn’t the first mission that turned out into a failure, Hell nobody was perfect, although some thought they were...

And he had worser injuries than this and he had survived that just fine... Only it should have been healed by now... “At least it will heal.” He looked through the reflection at Kisuke and the pained grimace Kisuke gave him, made him repeat, “At least it will heal!” in a harsher tone.

Maybe it was a personal reassurance to himself at that point, but he knew better. In that instant he futilely tried to send out his own reiatsu to ensure a healing process, but for some reason the coordinations to the left side of his face got lost. His reiatsu simply couldn’t reach...

His actions were watched by a concerned gaze. “The fire that the dragon spits out burns right through the reiatsu system. Third degree burns or minor ones, it doesn’t matter, the potency of the flames seem to melt the nerves of the reiatsu system even when it slightly brushes the skin. The fumes likely get absorbed, it will be researched in the twel-”

The damage would last with other words...

Oh no!! He won’t be offering himself to be pricked and prodded just for research! “I won’t be a fucking guinea pig!!” 

“You don’t have to be, we’re doing autopsies actually, so you don’t qualify.” The happy tone in which Kisuke addressed him suddenly made him think that Kisuke was trying to uplift him in some way.

But those dead bodies had been part of his team...

Meaning he had to do some family visits to pay his respect, if they had had family to begin with. In that aspect his face wasn’t the end of the world...

“Am I gonna remain this ugly charred mess?” 

Kisuke shook his head indecisively. “It’s a new type of fire so we’re not exactly certain how it will progress, but it won’t fully recover...” he bit his lip and trailed off. It was obvious by then anyways. 

Well...he couldn’t wallow in self-pity forever. Besides he rather did that in private, without a pseudo doctor next to him. He understood that Kisuke was there as a support solely because his face got messed up as well, but this was not what he needed right now...

He got back to his room...the Hall, and listlessly took a place on his bed.

At that point Kisuke didn’t seem to be so sure on what to say either anymore, because it was quiet. Except the sounds of coughing or groans of pain in the beds around him, there was only silence.

And he hated that. Kisuke had always been a friend, but right now he wanted to be alone. He wasn’t in for any chitchat. Much less jokes at his expense or some sympathetic words that were meant to raise his spirits. 

Nah, he didn’t need all that.

He was ready to make that clear when Kisuke said, “I don’t know if it’s the right timing, but... Aizen somehow knew about you being injured...”

That was the last thing he expected to hear. He looked at Kisuke and nodded to inquire how the Hell Aizen would even know, but he just shrugged in response.

“He was actually adamant on seeing you, but I made sure that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon-”

What was that all about? Was Aizen picking up his stalking habits even in the Seireitei now?

“Actually I’d like some rest.” he interrupted. Especially after that news.

He waited until Kisuke left before closing the curtain again to search through the rest of the cards.

Aizen being responsible for the dragon sounded ridiculous in itself. But you never knew with Aizen... Anything was possible. His ‘escape’ from out of Hell was also questionable at best, the odds that magic had been involved wasn’t actually that crazy.

Then again, why would Aizen target the Rukongai? As a test? 

And there it was, between the expected cards from Lisa, Ichigo, Rose, and so on, **his** card was present as well. The cover for the card was bland, the painted building of the fourth told Shinji it was probably bought in the gift shop right outside the gates of the fourth division. 

‘I wish you a fast recovery so you will be able to play for me again, sincerely babe.’

It wasn’t signed with Aizen’s name, but it didn’t need to be. It was obvious enough with the nickname Shinji had used once in the Blue Inn to fool his one-night stand.

The fact that Aizen had to have gained access to his bed while he was sleeping was upping the creepiness. Yet it could also have been delivered by the gift shop’s owner. Shinji knew this was possible since he had used those services once when Hiyori had been in the hospital.

It was strange. 

And yet, somehow he couldn’t wait to see Aizen in the Blue Inn. If only for some answers.

-0-

It hadn’t been a requirement for Shunsui to supervise the team that was sent out to kill the dragon, but he wanted to see the beast on his own. And the ravage it had created. It was just a single dragon but with everything up in flames and charred bodies left in its wake, it had something of a battlefield.

Gotei members being commanded to restore, clean up or in this case extinguish fires, was also a scene reminiscent of war. But the location just didn’t click, because even after the Quincy war, regular Souls were responsible for rebuilding their own homes, shops,... 

As always, it was the Seireitei that was of importance, not the whole Soul Society.

But the sight of respectable Shinigami like Rukia and Toshiro being authorised to put out firesreminded him all too much of the miscalculation regarding the Quincy army. From the moment it became known that Quincies could steal one’s Bankai, they were brandished as dangerous. The Royal Guards even had to interfere.

The Quincy war had meant sacrifices, dear sacrifices...

And now, with Reiatsu Systems melting within a certain distance of the flames, the Magic Realm became a prioritised ally rather than a foe or a rival. They had plenty of those dragons, and only one of them was already posing a gigantic problem.

Even with three captains and an ex captain commanded to take down the dragon, the beast continued to wreck ravage.

Yoruichi and Byakuya were circling the dragon’s head, their speed in Shunpo came in handy to outrun the potency of the flames. But it was first and foremost a desperate attempt to distract the beast from Ichigo and Kenpachi’s physical blows. Ichigo and Kenpachi’s immense reiatsu was admittedly the last hope for Central. Shunsui would have added Aizen, who would have been a nice addition, but he wouldn't be able to make that deal with Central again. Besides with Hell having full ownership of Aizen now, it was a delicate matter.

With other words, going against the law, wouldn’t be taken lightly.

He watched and felt pure yellow pressure, a suffocating rush of energy impact and bounce off of the dragon’s chest. Without Kenpachi’s eyepatch, it would have split apart any lesser opponent. 

But now...

“The scales are in the way!” Ichigo barked out. His voice had reformed to match the appearance of his Hollow form. “Shinji’s Cero had hit a part where the dragon’s scales broke off.” It seemed like the ability to reason hadn’t faded away with the appearance of paper sheet white skin, black marks or the Hollow horn.

The scales of the dragon were impenetrable. And it was covered in head to toe in those... Like a lasting full coverage Reiatsu shield.

They had to try something of course. But even with a direct target in mind, it didn’t seem to be enough. It only angered the beast and Byakuya was minutely spared from being singed when it spit out the next breath of wild fire.

The problem was distance. Close range fighting guaranteed a higher dosage of Reiatsu hitting target, which was important when the two attackers here had close to zero control over their Reiatsu. It didn’t matter how powerful their energy was if Kenpachi and Ichigo couldn’t concentrate that energy on a single part of the Dragon.

And destroying surrounding scales to expand the target was out of the question when they couldn’t get close in the first place. 

They had to duck, multiple times, including himself, when the Dragon’s spiky, scaled tail swished around in anger. That and a lava of fire made it near impossible to gain any leverage. With every gigantic step the dragon made, they had to take five steps back to ensure a distance, but the sea of fire closing in on them formed a next problem. They couldn’t run it seemed.

The Dragon still could though, since the scales were also a cloaked harnas to protect it form the flames. 

If only the Dragon stopped moving...

Now **that** was an idea. 

Shunsui unsheathed his two blades before crossing them and uttering the command to awaken his lovely ladies. As always they, or at least Katen, seemed grumpy at the sight of him.

“So sorry for the rude awakening...” he joked lightly and saw her glare harden in his direction. Her mood as fickle as any woman. “Let me put back a smile on that pretty face, see that beast over there.” It was hard to miss... Katen barely glanced at the monstrosity while Kyokotsu was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, gaze full of awe. He had to get a move on though, because it was becoming more than a little hot with the wall of burning flames nearing ever so slightly. “You’re in for a game of chase in the shadows?”

Shadows enough on the ground. That was one thing he often noticed from the get go. But was it strong enough to hold a dragon? Pinning the animal and its limbs, possibly its maw would certainly prove Ichigo’s theory about the scales.

It was worth a try with other words.

-0-

It was rather late when Sousuke finally neared his district only to stumble unto the same sort of protesters that he came upon previously. 

“The fires will continue to spread unless you pledge loyalty to our lord Zephyr today, only he will bring back peace!”

And although it wasn’t weekend yet, the streets were busy with life. Spectators were still drawn to the poetic nonsense the cloaked figures announced. 

Once passed that, the nightlife paraded the streets. Drunken fools stumbled around and with a group of them deliberately walking into him and pulling his hood off, he took a detour, away from the main road.

The smaller passageways between the houses were not entirely empty. But he rather snuck passed urinators, couples that were about to get it on and unconscious drunks than standing out in the mass.

He wasn’t the only one of that opinion, because he became aware of someone following his exact route...

When he suddenly turned left, the one behind him did as well, so to make sure he wasn’t becoming paranoid for nothing, he turned left again and again until he came upon the same passageway as before.

With the other still on his heels he upped his pace to which his stalker sped up as well.

He wanted to have a thorough glance at the one behind him, but that turned into a grave mistake when the second he turned his head, he was clubbed unto the back of his head.

-0-

Kisuke walked the long dark hallway of the celblocks in the basement of the twelfth. He didn’t need nighttime vision to see the effects that cold turkey had on the Souls that laid shivering, huddled in a ball on their ratty old cots.

To think he had the honour of testing Metalidon starting tomorrow... And a bunch of other medications no doubt, knowing Mayuri’s tendency in milking out his guinea pigs to the last drop, literally.

He wasn’t looking forward to purposely feeding junkies even more drugs. Especially not when they had been forced to become clean for the past few weeks. 

He neared the bars of cellblock 32 when the ‘prisoner’ wasn’t cowering on their mattress. Glancing down at his chart he saw it was supposed to be a woman named- He shot back with a step of Shunpo when she sprang from out of a corner so she could stick her hands through the bars. Her hands were shivering violently... 

That was enough time spent downstairs for today.

He stalled in his direction towards his lab when he saw dozen of members of the twelfth carrying what looked to be heavy bloody sacks. It took a minute to remember that the bodies that were burned to a crisp, couldn’t possibly bleed out, so he took one of the sacks from one of the members to follow them to Mayuri’s headquarters. When they were all placed on the ground, ready to be researched, and the lot of them walked out to get the next batch, he took a peek into one of the sacks himself.

Oh it was most definitely flesh, just not bodily...

“Dragon meat.” He turned around at Mayuri’s voice, that then barked out orders when a couple of other members came in dragging some more...dragon meat apparently.

“They managed to slay the dragon?” he questioned. That was a great relief to some of the tension in his system. Yoruichi and Ichigo had been summoned to take care of that after all. He should pay them a visit.

Mayuri’s yellow teeth made a reappearance in a wide sneer, before the man came to stand in front of him to flash him the finger. The long false nail could easily poke an eye out. “Turns out, scales are like nails: protection.” 

Kisuke took out his handy dandy fan to redirect that finger out of his face. “Well, goody!” he said before making motions of leaving. “Luckily that doesn’t take a genius to figure out.”

“That’s why it was your pupil that came up with it.” A wave of proudness washed over him with that, never mind that Mayuri was trying to insult Ichigo. “That and Kyouraku pinning the monster’s shadows saved the day.”

He barely listened further to Mayuri nagging, it was time to visit the hero of the day and pray that Ichigo was spared from any burns.

\----

The fires were still being laboriously put out or there was already a victory party going on in one of the pubs in the Seireitei. 

“It was creepy how Mayuri suddenly popped up from behind the flames after it was done. And after he got permission it didn’t take long before multiple members of the 12th arrived along with an axe to transport the dragon’s...bits to his lair.” Ichigo gave a shiver of disgust. “Seriously! He’s so creepy, how do you put up with him, Urahara-san?”

Kisuke shrugged while allowing Yoruichi to refill his cup with sake. It was better not to dwell on that fact himself actually.

Kyouraku’s cup was also being filled for the umpteenth time.

Everyone’s cup actually. Although Kisuke was sure that the majority of the partygoers were not a part of the mission. Byakuya was nowhere to be seen, it likely wasn’t the Kuchiki’s sort of company or establishment for that matter...

Not that he could say much, he was one of the partygoers now after being invited -forced- by Yoruichi.

“There’s gonna be an influx of dragon goodies for children.” One remarked.

“And dragon dildos for the adults.” Another marked and guffaws and roars of laughter filled the pub at once.

Okay yeah, that had him laughing as well, while Ichigo next to him looked practically scandalised.

When Kyouraku stood up suddenly, announcing he had an appointment with another fire spitting beauty, Kisuke stood up as well. Fully intending to shadow the Captain Commander to his destination.

This late, his visit to Aizen -because he was sure Kyouraku meant Aizen- would not be considered keeping watch.

He still took his time to say his goodbyes to Yoruichi and Ichigo, more so Yoruichi than Ichigo actually. Since she was of the opinion that Kisuke had no fun anymore. He had to promise that he was up to good fun, before finally being allowed out of her claws.

Besides it ensured a certain distance between himself and Kyouraku.

Yet he had been sure that along the way he had been noticed more than a few times anyways. But Kyouraku surprisingly didn’t address it. 

The direction to Aizen’s flat was rather obvious at a certain point, so he took a different turn that mounted out at Aizen either way. All roads lead to Aizen, or at least, a lot of them.

It was a shortcut, so he waited behind the corner of a nearby building, waiting on Kyouraku. With the other’s slow pace, logically, Kisuke would have arrived first.

But after twenty minutes there was still no sight of Kyouraku...

Maybe he had miscalculated and it wasn't the fastest route by far. After ten more minutes he snuck into Aizen’s building regardless of Kyouraku’s presence. But as he neared the most expensive door in the hallway, it was surprisingly quiet in the room behind it. 

He was about to take his chance and knock when all of a sudden his movement got restricted entirely. A hand palming his shoulder and Kyouraku’s voice from behind him startled him even though his nerves were blocked from giving any kick.

“I could be wrong,” he saw Kyouraku’s silhouette pass by before the older man finally came into full view. “but were you following me?” There was only one eye outstaring him at the moment, and being unable to look away made it a little too confrontational. Expressive disappointment urged him almost to burst...

But... “No, it must be coincidence that we’re both here for Aizen at the same time, we’re keeping watch over him after all.”

Kyouraku scratched his jaw contemplatively, gaze still locked unto him.

Was he really going to be forced to sprout the truth?

Kyouraku smiled warmly then and the restrictions left as soon as they came. Just like that. “In that case...” Kyouraku elbowed him playfully and it had Kisuke stumbling when he only just received back control over his limbs. “Unfortunately, save your effort, because Aizen’s not home.”

And he knew that because?

The smile and the pat he got on the shoulders as Kyouraku walked passed him made him stand there for a minute longer. And only when Kyouraku turned the corner, did he knock on Aizen’s door.

Unfortunately, Kyouraku was right.

-0-

When Sousuke woke up he didn’t have just a headache, his whole head felt ready to explode. Whole bursts of pain pounded behind his temples, but the worst of the ache came from the back of his head.

He wanted to make sure that it was no more than a bruise from the brunt side of whatever object that had made contact with his head, when he found out that his hands were bound in the front. And so were his ankles by the feeling of chains around his legs.

It was dark wherever he was right now, which was maybe for the best, the lighting likely wouldn’t have nursed his headache. 

He shuffled a little forwards on his ass, blindingly feeling around with his bound wrists. There was a wooden flooring beneath him and when he came upon the wall, or what felt like the wall, panelling was the only thing he could make out of his search. But besides that, nothing familiar.

The chains rattled when he moved, just lightly, so he leaned back against the wall. He didn’t want to risk alerting anyone to his awakened presence. Besides, searching the room without being knowledgeable of what was around him, made him slightly uneasy. 

He reached underneath his kimono, hoping on the dagger inside of his thigh strap...

It was still there? Whomever took him here didn’t search him? That was a grave mistake.

Sawing through the metallic chains was useless though, and if it was kidou, then only a Zanpakuto could cut through the chains.

But he could try and pick the lock.

He heard some clicks but the metal wouldn’t budge. And the second he heard some noise just outside of the room he was kept in, his attempts grew almost desperate. Which made him miss the tiny opening of the lock in some way, before he heard someone unlocking a door. His door apparently.

He practically flung the dagger away, hoping it would have flown underneath the nearest object. Hidden.

The lights hurt his eyes or his head...he couldn’t really distinguish the pain at that point.

But he could see the eight men walking into the room...shed. It was an empty shed, bar some boxes. And when he subtly searched for the dagger, he could only conclude that it was hidden behind one of the boxes? 

Some of the men were carrying buckets? In particular though his eyes were immediately drawn towards Ryoichi and Seijo. Yet it wasn’t Seijo that was taking the lead this time.

No, a dark haired man stood in the midst of the gang, looking for all the world as if he had just sprang up from the black market. Five o’clock shadow present and a part of his shoulder length black hair was tied back into a ponytail. But what made the man so distinct were his arms that were covered in graphic tattoos, it would have made Abarai Renji’s ink look like kid’s drawings. 

“You owe me money, or so I heard.” the man said with a gigantic smile.

Sousuke glanced at Ryoichi whose smirk widened exponentially.

“Big shot, Aizen Sousuke,” the ‘leader’ pointed explicitly at him, “you’re not so big now are you.” before jerking his chin and Sousuke was suddenly pushed to the ground by four of the others in the room. His hands and feet, while bound, had to be restrained by the four of them.

Was that really needed? He couldn’t move his limbs anyways.

He would have tried his best to form any sort of opposition, but his head had hit the ground in his struggles. And his vision swam for half a minute.

And with the so called leader kneeling unto his thigh, next, it became impossible to move. He tried his best to forget the pounding in his head when the leader stuck a hand inside of his kimono. But the other backed off with his palm as if he was burned just as soon. “Let me introduce myself first before reaching into your clothes. Azashiro Yoshio.” Yoshio introduced blatantly before continuing his search. His thigh explicitly...

The leader then removed his hand and made an expressive shocked face to question him, “Where oh where is the dagger?”

It was left there deliberately? What kind of circus did he land in?

“Oh, no matter, I have one as well.” Yoshio said in a shushing tone while revealing a hooked switch blade. The blade was retracted with a flourishing swish. He then patted the flat of the blade against his lips, contemplatively. “Say, Sousuke... are you familiar with torture?”

******

Along with unease, dread was beginning to fill his stomach. The unknown contents of the buckets had him suddenly in suspense. Never mind the dagger Yoshio brandished in his hand.

“A big shot like you must have dished out some punishments, no? Or were it really only just pressure punishments?”

Yoshio hadn’t done anything yet, but the vibe coming off of the man wasn’t as reassuringly flamboyant as he made out to be. Now more than ever, Sousuke would have done anything for his powers to show Yoshio exactly what his reiatsu had felt like.

“Hah... they always talk about your tongue that doesn’t stand still...and yet.” Yoshio heaved his shoulders listlessly. “Ah well, let me introduce you to the real fun. It’s guaranteed to loosen the tongue.” 

The grip around his right arm slackened to which his right palm was gripped tightly. And with Yoshio singling out his forefinger specifically, the incoming dagger, had his struggles renewing fervently.

Even if that didn't gain him leverage at all. Sousuke just wanted to make it as difficult as possible for Yoshio.

He would have thought it was the intention for his finger to be cut off but the tip of the dagger was stuck under his nail. Not really cutting into his skin just yet, but due to his struggles, it made a cut anyways.

“Shh...shh!” Yoshio’s annoying shushing didn’t help matters. Neither did the relocation of the grip around his palm to his chafed knuckles. And for some reason the pounding inside of his head was the last thing on his mind.

When Sousuke stopped fidgeting enough for Yoshio to return the tip of the dagger under his nail, Yoshio murmured, “There, there, it’s okay.” in a reassuring tone. “Do you know what happens to ordinary thieves?”

Sousuke did not associate himself with or as a thief. He had earned that mon-

Any further thought left his brain completely when the dagger was dug further underneath his nail into his flesh. The piercing hot rush had him desperately pulling against his restrictions, his back arched which only managed to lodge the blade deeper. Every little part of his nail that got separated from its nail bed shot through him like fire. 

It was the worst pain imaginable and he couldn’t protect himself with reiatsu. Praised his whole life for his immense energy and yet here he was helplessly undergoing the torture.

“That’s okay!! Let it all out, the more you scream, the more it satisfies me!” Yoshio yelled just centimetres from his face.

Screaming?

Yet he only registered that fact after acknowledging his own hoarse protests.

The blade retracted from his flesh and Sousuke held his breath throughout the slow process while trying to ignore Yoshio’s penetrating smirk. But even with the blade gone the burning ache remained. His finger was red, blood dripped down unto his palm and Yoshio’s. And his nail was still not detached even though it felt like it was only loosely stuck to his nail bed.

“I only want you to realise what happens to thieves,” the dagger was carelessly being swung around, his blood must have flown everywhere at that point. “do you understand that?”

Whether he reacted verbally to Yoshio or not, it likely wouldn’t shush the madman.

And not even a second later, the blade returned in his flesh. Even before it made contact Sousuke had been practically chanting that Yoshio would receive his money. Against his principles or not, he would like everything on his person to stay intact, but all he received as response was, “Too late!” 

He bucked as wildly as he could, beyond caring that it only made the blade dug into every direction.

“See what you did! It would have been a clean cut!”

Being desensitised to battle wounds didn't necessarily count when it was your own finger that was being mangled. A part of his nail had broken off along the way and the rest was only barely hanging on while surrounded with bloody flesh.

He felt sick at the sight which only increased the sensors in his brain that were responsible for feeling the actual pain.

He could barely breathe or his middle-finger was targeted. But to feel that all over again or just the simple thought had the edge of his vision already turning black.

The blade dug in and he was strangely becoming numb and when Yoshio moved the dagger up and down to loosen his second nail, he welcomed the blackness that consumed him entirely.

All too soon, he woke up again. Shivering violently. He was wet...water. He barely saw the outline of a men with a bucket.

“Oh no! I’m not done yet, I want you there throughout the entire experience!” Yoshio declared maniacally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My internship is ending this Thursday, so Yes! I’m done with working for free! Which also means that I have more time to write! XD The next stories will surely gain an update along the following months (not exactly in that order): Rehabilitate, Claimed II, Hope and a Summer surprise!!!! 


	16. Retribution

**Chapter 16: Retribution**

Sousuke awoke to a wave of nausea that had him just barely refraining from choking on his own barf as he struggled to reposition on his side when the disgusting sourly taste came up. The unpleasant splashing sound made him convulse a second time.

The ground was wet beneath him because of the buckets of water that had been thrown over him, he reminded himself. Although he was kept in his own filth here as well, which was something he rather wasn’t reminded of. 

The pain in the back of his head was making him ill, and the burning around his exposed flesh where his nails should have been, kept pulsating constantly.

He felt around with his hand that had all nails intact. He carefully pat the wet wood since it probably wasn't even sanitary in the first place. Especially not with all sorts of secretions mixed into it...

He would have preferred to return to Hell than be subjected to this... He was a sorry, weak and disgusting state right now. 

The dagger, his dagger had to be somewhere...

Every shuffle forward in his bound state sent a pulse of pain into his inured toe and fingers. But he had to look for the blasted thing that he had chucked off. And yet with every -empty- box he upturned, no dagger was found. He had to coordinate himself in the dark and from what he had seen in the first couple of glimpses of light, those were the only boxes stationed on his right...

In vain, he tried to rip a piece of fabric from his disgusting wet kimono in order to use it as a makeshift bandage around his pinky toe, forefinger and middle finger. 

The lock turned and his heart started beating furiously. While his reiatsu rushed through him in such a sense his head was spinning in a matter of seconds.

The lights being flicked on momentarily blinded him, so he barely heard the cynical, “Freedom!!” uttered by the lunatic that entered. The door was ajar far enough so he could get a glimpse of what was presumably the front door that was opened as well.

Oh how he longed for the sunlight...despite with the difficulty he already had with the lights in the shed.

The door slammed shut and the lock that turned echoed cynically.

It wasn’t Yoshio. But a lunatic nonetheless with the way the man had been his only sporadic company now and then. Only to annoy him with flickering the lights on and off repeatedly and blasting deafening music from a speaker he had in his hands.

Right now, the man approached him, the lights were left alone and besides the wet splashes of the other’s footsteps, it was silent.

Sousuke had looked subtly left and right, trying to get a glimpse of his dagger, but alas...

The man didn’t need to stand directly in front of him or he could already smell the alcohol... And it wasn’t comforting in the way it surrounded Kyouraku.

Sure he himself didn’t smell like a fresh clean scent at all, but he was already sick so it only worsened his nausea.

When the man began to undo the clasp of his belt, Sousuke started shuffling backwards. The belt was thrown behind the man and for a second Sousuke thought about making a run for that belt to use it as a weapon.

An overly optimistic thought, because he wouldn't get far with his shackled ankles...

The man’s half hard cock was taken out of his pants not soon after which made Sousuke prepared to fight tooth and nail to prevent any of that sort of humiliation.

He had somewhere hoped that maybe his shackles would be taken off...

But his leg was grabbed to make him fall back, only for him to be pushed unto his side.

Sousuke tried to twist back to face the guy and squirmed as hard as possible when he felt his drenched kimono being ripped apart from the back. He tried to use his elbow, but received a punch at the side of his ribs that had him gasping for breath and turning unto his stomach reflexively.

He tried to scramble for purchase when the man settled in between his legs, the shackles strained and dug into his ankles when his limbs were forced apart, despite his restriction. He was searching the filthy ground, trying to find some support. And by some miracle when he felt the guy’s erection brushing against his ass, his hand had come in contact with a razor sharp metal.

His dagger!!

He grabbed the blade and bucked to get the other off while simultaneously squeezing his legs as tightly as he could. The man grabbed at his ass cheeks to pry him back open and in that instant he bucked again and managed to turn enough so he could swing his arms again. He only needed one hack into the other. That was all. Right into the man’s Binding Chain.

Yet that turned into a cut in the man’s shoulder instead.

In the midst of the man’s curses and fumbles to get the dagger out, Sousuke turned unto his back to straighten up, yet he didn’t get far when he saw the dagger incoming again. He automatically blocked it with his arms which had the blade piercing a piece of his forearm unto his flesh of just below his elbow. He couldn’t move his left arm at all anymore when he couldn’t even get to the handle of the dagger with his other hand due to the shackles...

Sousuke was pushed easily back unto his side, digging the blade deeper, before he braced himself for the worst. He tried to tighten up completely at the return of the other’s cock against his ass...

But the pain never came...

In fact the weight of the other disappeared and the man started screaming suddenly. And there was some sort of crackling sound... 

He turned around and found the other lit up into flames, completely engulfed. And when he tried to locate his rescuer, there was no-one besides them in the still locked shed. He shuffled backwards, back against the wall when the other’s flesh burned off which made the stink of the other even worse...

The Binding Chain was an easy target when the man was alight from head to toe. 

The flames soon lit up the wet floor and it traveled to all sides in the shed, including the door...

Panic began to settle in and Sousuke unnaturally bend his left hand to grab a hold of the dagger to pull it out of his arm, bit by bit. Which turned into simply yanking it out when he began to feel the heat of the flames. He shook useless at his shackles and tried to wrench them off of his wrists while he was bleeding profusely below and just above his elbow. He was close to hysterics by then and wasn't thinking anymore when he dug the blade of the dagger into his wrist, prepared to saw through his flesh in a last resort to escape when the flames licked at his feet.

He quickly shoved aside that crazy idea, because it was too late.

...

But he felt nothing... Besides the heat...there was nothing. Or he had gotten so numb throughit all that he had completely shut down or he truly didn’t feel the flames engulfing him.

But the metal of the chains transformed easily into liquid, freeing his limbs that were resistant to the fire???

He stood shakily up for what felt like days and he had to balance himself against the wall. He was literally standing in the fire. The orange red hue watered his eyes and blurred his sight, but he could still see the hole in the wall being burned through.

And it didn’t get better when he crawled through, back into fresh air. It became easier to breathe, sure, but he squeezed his eyes shut at that initial sunlight. 

The flames had reached the outside walls by then, practically engulfing the whole shed. And Souls left and right were trying to extinguish the flames.

Some were starring at him and whether him being Aizen Sousuke had something to do with it, or because he had just crawled unscathed out of a burning shed, didn’t matter.

Not completely unscathed though... He ripped a piece off his sleeve to wrap it around his bleeding arm.

And before he got recognised or sought after by any of the other lunatics, he disappeared into the passageways. Every step shot a burning ache unto the bare flesh of his smallest toe. Actually, everything hurt at that point again. He kept looking back and forth the entire time, afraid that his assailants would appear out of nowhere.

-0-

Shunsui descended the stairs to enter the assembly Hall. The vast open space was empty, none of the chairs in the octagonal structure were taken, except the six judges in the front.

None of the 40 wise men needed to be present when he came bearing news of Queen Mary.

And yet, some members of the jury seemed to be missing, in particular the head of the Tsunayashiro house, who was now replaced by their unstable heir, Tokinada and the head of the Yamagata house was missing entirely. Remarkably also the oldest members. Instead a long and forgotten noble house took their place. It was about time that a younger wind swept through the ranks. Shunsui hardly attended the formal noble gatherings. But seeing Azashiro Soya returning from out of Muken had him apparently missing out on sensational news. 

It was already obvious by looking at the banners of the noble families that were seated in the judge, that revocation of Azashiro’s noble title had been restored. The banner of the Azashiro family had replaced the Yamagata one. Repentance automatically meant restoration of reputation? Funny how mutiny was exonerated and acceptable when it came from one of the noble houses. 

500 years in Muken had been a long time, but to accept the Azashiro family back, seemed far fetched. Especially considering the crimes and how they were penalised these days.

Perhaps he should pay Byakuya a visit afterwards...

He would be the last to advocate in the innocence of noble houses, but reinstating murders went a little too far... 

“Kyouraku Shunsui, you come bearing news of the queen of Soul Society West Branch?”

The Queen had sent him a projection call twenty something minutes ago. “They lost a dragon. The witch who was responsible for safekeeping the dragon lost the beast out of her sight...” 

“How do you possibly lose something that gigantic out of sight?” The heir to the Ichijo family asked. One of the oldest noble families in the Seireitei.

Shunsui shrugged amiably. “Apparently it was rutting season.”

It evoked laughter and giggles as if he was teaching a class of young adolescents sex ed in the Academy. In that aspect, he missed the older generation’s professionalism.

Shunsui cleared his throat. “Anyways. Should we be in possession of said animal the queen proposes one of the oldest forms of payment.”

“Prostitution?” The oldest son of the Kazoku house suggested in a flippant manner.

“If she’s your type...” Shunsui jested back which provoked more laughter from three of the judges.

Along with similar provocations of, “She would have to be younger, much younger for Saionji.” from Tokinada.

The convivial atmosphere a far stretch from the uptight meetings they used to be. Only Azashiro didn’t give a kick.

And with the threat the previous noble or re-enacted noble had posed to the Seireitei, Shunsui would have preferred the strict atmosphere over the tension that wafted off of Azashiro.

Soya had to be apprehended by Royal Guards, in his mutiny, a threat comparable to that of Bach’s or Aizen if Aizen had ever decided to fight his war in the Seireitei instead of taking it elsewhere.

Soya’s shikai powers were better locked up.

“No...she proposes a form of trading. If the dragon should have caused a ravage...she would like her dragon back in exchange of compensation for the damages we suffered.”

Only...the dragon had been killed and was now cut up in a gazillion of pieces. And while he didn’t know Mary personally, she certainly wouldn’t appreciate a beheaded dragon or bits and pieces of it. 

Dragons were sacred creatures to witches and wizards...

“And who says it was the dragon that magically appeared in East Rukon?”

He showed the picture that Queen Mary had magically handed him over throughout the projection. It was the exact same animal that had been cut down days prior. Plus the animal in question had been sick, suffering some sort of infection at its scales. Which Ichigo had noticed, even though the boy had mistaken it as a result of Shinji’s Cero.

“And what exactly did you tell her?” questioned Azashiro. Soya’s cold narrowed brown eyes pierced practically through him.

“That we’ll be looking for her dragon, nothing more, nothing less.”

Murmurs and silent agreements followed.

“But I fear that if she finds out what truly happened, the neutrality between our Realms will be at great risk.” And the last thing Soul Society needed was another war. 

“Well...we’ll see then.” Saionji said, along with a distasteful, “We have Kurosaki now.” as if the boy was immediately responsible for any mayhem.

Shunsui was next dismissed with a nod.

On his way back to the staircase, Soya told him, “Aizen’s trail will be in two days.”

He glanced back at those narrowed eyes, “He doesn’t necessarily have to be present, does he?” when he received a shake of the head in return, he continued on his way.

He however will be present at the trial. 

Sousuke...hadn't been home the last few days, nor had he seen Sousuke wandering through the Seireitei... Wherever was the sneaky brunet?

-0-

Shinji had been discharged from the hospital and he should be happy for this, but maybe somewhere he had hoped in those couple of days that the brunt of his burnt face would magically disappear. As fast as it appeared on his face, he had had that sliver of hope that his face could be restored with a wonder pil or at least covered up with Kisuke’s so called scar reducer... 

He was no longer in need of those bandages either, but he would be caught dead walking around, partially bald and completely deformed. So he had taken to the Human World to buy himself a mask that covered half of his face. It was a black masquerade mask with gold lining. He would have opted to walk around with his Hollow mask instead if that hadn’t meant giving up control to the evil within. 

He wouldn’t take off the mask, at least not in the presence of another. Even when alone he hesitated to uncover his ugliness. He avoided mirrors like the plague now and he kept his hair in a tiny ponytail so he could comb a part of his hair over the scarred bald mess on his left side. 

Hiyori had seen him like this though, on accident. Shinji had sworn he had been alone in his private quarters of the fifth division, no way would he sleep in the barracks now... But Hiyori had been inside already when he took off the mask.

He had heard her gasp, probably in shock at the sight of him. And before he knew it, he had an armful of the small woman when she clung to him, crying. He hated that. The fact that she wasn’t cursing him out but instead sympathising... 

“Oh come on, Shinji!” Kiko whined when he had come to tell her he wouldn’t be preforming at the Blue Inn anymore.

“No! I look like the damn phantom of the Opera! No way do I want any sort of joke like that at my expense.” Sure the Blue Inn was more often than not packed with drunken and high customers. But those customers were familiar with all sorts of arts in the Human World, including musical plays and the like.

“Take a break, you need a break, but you’re not gonna give up that easily. I’ll find you and come and get you myself.”

“Pfft...” he snorted. Ain’t no way that she could change his mind. “Did...Aizen come here last Friday?”

She shook her head.

Alright... Aizen showed up when he was there and didn’t when he wasn’t... Aizen was becoming a little too knowledge of him again... 

-0-

None of his surroundings seemed familiar so Sousuke couldn’t say if he was still in South Rukongai or in which district in particular. Whichever district it was though, it had to be bellow 60 judging by the rundown sheds and houses.

He hurried into the first store that sold fabrics to look for something that he could use as a hood, yet he had no money on his person. The bit of pocket money he had carried around was gone and the rest was safely stored away in the three in East Rukon.

The seller motioned to pay.

And in return Sousuke promised he would pay for the fabric afterwards, but the seller kept shaking his head and eventually pulled the fabric out of his hands to push him out of the store. He could have run, but he was no ordinary thief.

He was about to go in search of the next store that sold fabrics when he was confronted with the henchmen of Yoshio walking passed the passageway he was standing in. He quickly hid into the next available shop without even checking what kind of store he had walked into.

The flash of blue as he glanced behind him into the store made him gasp out, “Grimmjow.” in relief.

Grimmjow was hammering whatever it was that he was pounding unto the table. The sound of steel being hit halted when Grimmjow looked at him. And the face Grimmjow made at seeing him made Sousuke suddenly aware of what he must have looked like at that moment. He hadn’t run out of the shed entirely unscathed...after all.

“You like like shit.”

Yes well...being locked up for days in a single room would do that to a person... But the only thing he could get out of his mouth was, “I’m being followed.”

Leave it to his Espada to turn out into his only saviour. It didn’t matter that he had to beg for help at that point. He needed to be realistic, he couldn’t fight those madmen alone. 

Grimmjow put aside the hammer and took out a couple of bills to give it to the shop-owner. The shining metal in Grimmjow’s hand made him guess Grimmjow must have been forging a weapon.

“You work here?”

Grimmjow shook his head and urged him out of the shop. The second his stabbed arm was grabbed, he took a deep breath and immediately tried to wrench Grimmjow’s hold off, but his Espada only relocated his grip a little higher. He was urged into a faster pace to walk through the passageways.

Apparently, Grimmjow knew his way around. 

He was exhausted by then though, his body had seemingly given up to produce any adrenaline when he was in company of someone he remotely trusted. Well, trust was a big word when addressed to Grimmjow, but he realised that he didn’t need to be on guard anymore.

When Grimmjow took off into a near run, he stumbled to even catch up. The makeshift bandage around his pinky toe had disappeared and particles of sand or dirt from the ground stuck to his nail-bed. His sandals did nothing to protect his bare flesh...

Grimmjow pulled him none too gently back up to force him along again. This time to sprint. The sounds of Souls being shoved aside or crates full of foods being smashed from behind them warned him they weren’t alone anymore. Grimmjow cut corners more often, taking them deeper into the maze of little passageways.

But at a certain point they hit the wall. A dead end...

The wall was impossible to climb without reiatsu. And when he glanced frantically left and right there was nowhere to run.

And he had thought that Grimmjow had a destination in mind...

“The reunion!...”

He turned around to see two men walking their way. He could have sworn that one of them was present when Yoshio cut off his nails...but he couldn’t be sure, it was kind of a haze in his mind.

They had no weapons, except his dagger and the blade that Grimmjow had while the black haired guy of the two was carrying a scythe.

He heard Grimmjow’s mumbled, “Fucker...” and though Sousuke wanted to explain the reason they were being followed, he stumbled over his words and just couldn’t get any decent sentence out.

Grimmjow even cut him brusquely off with a growled, “Shut the fuck up!”

“This time blue, I’ll make sure to gut your insides properly and don’t worry you two can share a grave together.” 

The redhead next to the man with the scythe smirked. “Nah, boss wants ta see him stuffed.”

Grimmjow glanced at him as if to ask what he had done to deserve such a treatment, but the black haired guy had shunpo’d closer in a second to swing the scythe Grimmjow’s way.

Grimmjow had recoiled back initially, which forced Sousuke to take a step back as well, lest his pinky toe got crushed. They wouldn’t be able to back out forever, and ending up with their backs against the wall, would be disadvantageous.

Seconds later, the scythe came around a second time. The loud clang of steel hitting steel resonated when Grimmjow blocked the incoming half circular blade. His right hand had swung out and in his fist, the teeny tiny blade, and it held out against the long curved metal.

But the moon-shaped blade was made to sweep out an opponent. The black haired man yanked his scythe back and it slashed his Espada’s wrist when Grimmjow had to needlessly take advantage of his opponent’s open space by kicking into the other’s midriff.

Without reiatsu, it didn’t have Grimmjow’s attacker flying back. But the scythe did come back Grimmjow’s way... 

The redhead stepped in then, into Sousuke’s direction, slowly as if he knew he had the time. He stopped just a couple of footsteps from Sousuke before finally unsheathing his sword. He made some redundant tricks with his zanpakuto before the flash of metal zoned suddenly into Sousuke direction. Deceptively so because it hadn’t been the man’s intention to hit him.

Sousuke subtly tried to reach for his own trusted dagger, but it was gone?!... How and where had he lost it?

The reality of not being able ward off such an incoming attack except with his bare hands made Sousuke glance fleetingly back at Grimmjow. Whose grunts resounded through the alleyway. And though there was nothing graceful about Grimmjow’s fighting style, the brutal thrusts and wild stabs were mesmerising.

His focus was forcefully averted back to his own opponent when the redhead backed him up with another whooshing swipe of the metal that almost graced his chest. 

The guy in front of him had to have a minimal amount of reiatsu, certainly no massive supply. Yet right now, against his own locked pressure, the redhead was above his equal. Sousuke lacked the swiftness and muscle to turn the tides in his favour.

He couldn’t keep on dodging at that rate or pace, his energy burned out quickly. Not to mention his already miserable state.

The redhead backed him up some more and because Sousuke wanted to avoid being entrapped, which would be nefarious to his already inequitable situation, he took another step backwards. 

And when the back of his ankle scraped against the wall, he had to use his bare hands to block. Because with that long sword, the other’s body remained at an untouchable distance.

That distance needed to go. So with the next strike at him, Sousuke sought to get a hold of the hilt, maybe even try his luck in breaking that grip, in order to get into the redhead’s space so it turned into a somewhat equal fist fight instead. 

But the hilt of the other’s zanpakuto catapulted back, striking Sousuke’s temple which knocked the back of his head against the wall. The pain of his last injury in that area had dulled down into a sporadic throb, but now it seemingly reopened the cut. He kind of collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

And the redhead didn’t waste his time to straddle his sternum, cutting off his air.

He was already trying to shove those knees from digging into his ribs, but he had to block the incoming blade just as fast. It cut unto the palms of his hands as he tried to keep it from slitting his throat. 

The power struggle was useless. The strength in his arms left along with his air and the blade came dangerously close to nipping at the flesh of his neck.

The redhead was grinning wildly and yelling unintelligibly, Sousuke couldn’t make one word out of it when he had to gasp for breath. And with every push downwards, the other seemingly allowed him some leverage, just seconds, only to bring the blade down with more force. 

He couldn’t hold that game for much longer...

When air became necessary and he was thinking of relocating his grip on the sword to the middle so he could at least let go of one hand in an attempt to regain back air, something splashed into his eyes.

Not being able to see would make it even harder...

He thought the other might have spit, he did hear a gurgling sound. But, the pushing force slackened and when he dared to let go of one hand to wipe his eyes clean. His hand came away, covered in blood.

The redhead’s body had slumped over him and in the middle of his neck, a broken piece of wood stuck out. The blood that gushed down from his pierced throat and mouth, a stark contrast with the bright red hair.

The heavy body was then hefted off of him with the help of the wooden bar that Grimmjow held on to, on the other side. Like a puppet on a string. And when Grimmjow couldn’t slide the redhead back off of the rod, he had to necessarily kick the guy off...

With Grimmjow busy, Sousuke tried to get up slowly, groggily. His vision was still swimming. This time because of the throbbing in his head.

The wooden bar clattered down to the ground when Grimmjow threw it beside the second half of the bar.

It was actually a piece of the scythe’s hilt. Grimmjow had to have gotten a hold of the weapon during his struggle. The black haired guy’s head had to have been bashed into, in the same sort of manner, judging by the bloody dented state of his face. 

With voices sounding from nearby, Sousuke scanned the narrow passageway, afraid their next assailants wouldn’t be far off. Grimmjow’s stamina, without reiatsu, had a breaking point as well...

He turned back to Grimmjow when he felt the other tugging on the back of his kimono. When a tearing noise accompanied Grimmjow’s tugging, he was about to swat his Espada off, but Grimmjow growled a, “Yer clothes are already shredded.” in a shrug.

And now that Grimmjow mentioned that, it felt kind of airy from the back...

The piece of cloth was then used to wrap his injured wrist.

Sousuke didn’t have much time to recover from his fight or wrap his own cut palms, first aid could wait anyways. 

“We ain’t gonna wait on fuckers two point o.” 

Well...Grimmjow had a point there.

-0-

Shunsui snuck a glance in the can of tea that Byakuya’s servant brought. And with a quick whiff of the scent, the absence of any alcohol made him give his noble companion opposite him a deliberate stare. And before he could even bother Byakuya’s servant to bring him the good stuff, Byakuya stood up to disappear inside.

Good.

He leant back and enjoyed the pitter and patter of the Shishi Odoshi every time the bamboo filled with water and plopped back down. The birds chirped pleasant tunes, which had always been a fan-favourite of Jushiro.

His gaze swept over the pond that turned around the corner of the estate.

The gardens mounted out unto Jushiro’s estate, which had been empty for a while now, but he still couldn’t push himself to revisit the place...

Byakuya returned with a small carafe of sake, but it was better than nothing. It was also the younger noble that poured him a cup. Yet when Byakuya only filled half of the cup, he took the carafe to pour himself the rest.

He was aware of the frown on Byakuya’s face, but he acted as if he didn’t notice it before leaning back unto the cushioned seat.

“Aizen’s trial is tomorrow?” Byakuya asked while taking his own hot cup of tea in hand.

“In two days... Although I’m sure the outcome is already written on paper.” It mostly was. Even for lesser Gotei soldiers who went rogue. One’s strength wasn’t really held into accountability at penalisation. But one’s status on the other hand...

“He needs to be punished-”

“No doubt,” he interrupted Byakuya. Sousuke should repent for his crimes, certainly. “but...I would advocate for the same sort of treatment when the lawbreaker has a higher status.” He pointed at the both of them. 

“You mean Azashiro.”

He gave a small wink before taking a big gulp of the ice-cold brandy.

“He’s reinstated.”

“Sadly. Was this elected properly?” He threw up his hands to express his dismissal. “Because I know of nothing.” 

But Byakuya was quick to point him to the facts. “You haven’t been present at any election, so your vote will join the majority regardless of your presence or not. Yoruichi and I were the only ones to have voted against his reinstatement and before that against his release, but he has repented or so he swears. And the rest of the noble houses are on his side, especially Tokinada.”

Like minded individuals sought to support each other, Tokinada had also repented after he had murdered his wife. She had allegedly committed adultery and as his woman, she should have been faithful... While Tokinada’s trips to whore houses were not taken into account, as a man, he should deserve the pleasure of another, regardless if he’s bonded or not.

“I see...” he murmured. The younger wind going through the Seireitei was starting to stink of corruption. “The disunity of the noble houses is something we don’t need at the brink of another war...”

Byakuya put the cup of tea back, without having even taken one sip of the drink. “You think Queen Mary would go for revenge?”

“She wasn’t exactly friendly when we explained the damage in the Dangai. And if she finds out what we did to her favourite pet...”

“Then it’s best kept silent.” If only it was that simple. Mutineers enough in Soul Society... “But to go back on the topic of Aizen...Is he in hiding?”

See... Word got around quickly and Sousuke had only been missing in action for a couple of days... “No,” he reassured. Best to safeguard his own position. “I’ve seen him around...” he took a big gulp to avoid looking at his fellow noble.

Sousuke was his responsibility after all...

-0-

Kisuke stood in the control room that overlooked cellblock 25 to 30, while all the rest of the cells could be monitored through camera. Black and white camera. If these were to be his surroundings in the next months, he much rather preferred his trusted lab.

All the withdrawal symptoms, their efforts to participate in a volunteer detox only to get ready to fuck up their systems again...

The volunteers had involuntarily rehabilitated, a therapy that was nowhere even available in the Seireitei, unless one counted the Maggots’ Nest as a Rehabilitation Centre. Except, the ‘patients’ would be mixed in with criminals and part of their therapy would include ‘medications’ as well...

There were no windows down in the basement either, nor was there decent lighting except the luminous near blacklight system coming from the microscopes and other machinery. But somehow he longed for the sun on his skin.

“You’ll be switching over to Zophidol after a month,” Mayuri barked at him from behind him, in between his instructions to another assistant who was measuring the exact doses for every volunteer. “no sooner. And you’ll be keeping a diary on their behaviour, the side affects, their pressure system,...”

Kisuke barely listened to that monotonous drone and didn’t even take the charts from Mayuri as they were offered.

-0-

They weren’t followed during their second maze running, but everything became blurry in front of his eyes. Left, right, right...the different directions just swam before him and nausea had build up again with that blasting inside of his head.

Sousuke stumbled freely to the dirt when it felt like he was going to heave.

Grimmjow had only tried to yank him back up once, yet when he convulsed, his Espada dropped him at once.

Nothing came out though... He pulled a hand through his hair, sweaty or greasy, ugh... he was miserable. And to have Grimmjow see him in this state...

He tried to dab lightly at the back of his head, but the pain rushing through him made him almost heave a second time.

There had been some sort of crusty feel to it, maybe it had been a wound, but it wasn’t bleeding profusely. At least there was that. The bit of blood on his palm was certainly not caused by a hole in is head...

“Ye done yet?!” 

He dazedly looked back up at Grimmjow’s growl and waved his arm dismissively, he could take it from here.

But, it didn’t shoo Grimmjow away.

In fact his Espada remained standing there, arms crossed over each other, the only thing missing was Grimmjow tapping his leg impatiently.

“I have double vision, Grimmjow, I’m not getting up anytime soon.” he was probably suffering from a concussion. With the way his head had been smashed, thrice, it wouldn’t surprise him whatsoever.

He heard an exasperated sigh and before he knew it Grimmjow was manhandling him into his arms. He tried to punch off that forceful grip, but when Grimmjow strategically squeezed into his stabbed arm, his knees grew weak and he was lifted over Grimmjow’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

With his head dangling in the air, he squirmed in order to be put back down. Because all the blood rushing to his face only made him dizzier, but Grimmjow gripped unto the back of his knee to keep him plastered.

“You’re to blame if I barf all over you...” he gave up dejectedly and even had to prevent from making due on his promise when he felt his stomach turning again. He tried to squeeze his eyes shut instead on the bumpy journey to try and relief the unease. Because his pride wouldn’t be able to live that down.

He wasn’t an animal like Grimmjow that randomly let go of his bodily functions...on someone’s mattress nonetheless!...

Their journey came to an end, -finally!- when Grimmjow crawled them through a hole in a hut?

Once inside, he was none too gently dropped unto the ground,...dirt. There was no flooring underneath him.

He remained straddling the sandy ground, while one of his hands supported himself against a bale of hay? He leaned his head unto his arm and his eyes just closed immediately.

He came to at the sound of a knife being sharpened. His vision was remarkably better, yet when he tried to get up, the dizziness returned and he gladly dropped back down.

Grimmjow was sharpening the small blade he had bought in the shop, barely even glancing at his awakened state.

His Espada seemed to be sitting on a rock or a stone, around a poorly made campfire. There was no fire burning. And as he looked around, he checked out the small surroundings that consisted of flammable objects: the bale of hay next to him and the small oil lamp on the ground that gave off a fairly decent amount of light. He hoped his Espada was smart enough, not to lit the tinder on fire. Because everything would easily go up in flames...

And just because he had been lucky with fire once, he was guaranteed not fireproof. He had a theory that the King of Hell might have let his magic work, but he wasn’t sure of that. Nor was he up to test that theory anytime soon again. 

“Do you live here, Grimmjow?”

Grimmjow’s radiant blue eyes connected with his and a single grunt was all that left his Espada.

Well...compared to his rundown flat, this primitive form of housing made his own look fairly decent...

He watched the rhythmic motions of Grimmjow making his blade razor sharp for a while, before he tried to stand up a second time. He wanted to get a glimpse of himself and see how worse for wear he was at that point.

But there was only one door, and that was that hatch that lead to the outside. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Grimmjow gave him a toothy grin. “You need to take a piss?”

That wording...

“Just go outside against the wall of mah neighbour, the fucker deserves it after I caught him doing the same...” Grimmjow motioned to the wall on his left. And although Sousuke was sure, or at least hoped, that Grimmjow meant the outside, he pulled back his hand from the wall immediately to support himself on the bale of hay instead. “I swear I’m gonna fucking cut off his tiny dick the next time-”

He ended that foul language immediately. “I need to wash up, Grimmjow. I need to disinfect myself.”...completely all over, he thought after he remembered all the things he had come in contact with these last few days...

“Washing...I do that in the sea.” Grimmjow pointed behind him somewhere. And how far off was that sea? Sousuke wasn’t in for another journey on foot just yet. “And disinfection...” Grimmjow stood up to rummage in the only sort of small cabinet he had in his shed, only to flaunt a bottle of liquor next.

“Don’t tell me you’ve become a drunk...” Liquor became a real problem in Soul Society it seemed. But he be sorry if his own army, or what was leftover, became one of those good for nothing layabouts.

It didn’t reflect good on him after all.

But the bottle of liquor was pushed into his arms, along with a growl of, “Disinfection, you stupid...”

Grimmjow truly thought this was disinfection?

He chuckled, despite Grimmjow’s murderous look, and sought a surface to take care of his wounds. Which became the large bale of hay when there wasn’t anything else. The small cabinet was delved under all sort of clothes and it was kind of dark in that corner anyways...

“Do you have gauges, bandages, anything to wrap myself with?” He was in the midst of taking off the cloth around his arm and he needed something to rewrap himself with and he rather didn’t want it to be his own disgusting kimono. That had been an emergency first aid.

Grimmjow didn’t stand up a second time, but merely reached in the direction of the pile of clothes to yank the first one off of it. And everything came tumbling down...

The cloth was then thrown his way.

Sousuke doubted the fresh clean state of that pile but as he subtly took a tentative sniff to make sure, he could only smell the sea basically. 

He didn’t have any other choice did he? He couldn’t entirely blame Grimmjow either, because he didn’t own a first aid kit in his flat either.

The stab wounds in his arm would need stitching, he couldn’t get passed that. He was actually glad that Grimmjow had some alcohol around to numb the pain to that.

“I don’t suppose you own a needle.”

“Shit,” Grimmjow threw his blade and the sharpener aside. “what else do you need?!”

He hadn’t expected Grimmjow to give him something that came pretty close to a needle, but the fact that it was made out of wood... “I meant to sew my wounds back up...and with this...” he picked up the smooth piece of...wait that was not wood... “...splinters...” he trailed off. 

“I ain’t stupid, I know why ye ask. I made it out of bone.”

Bone?...

He smartly refused to ask who that bone had belonged to. “And for threading I suppose you use sinews?...”

Yet then he saw the green colour of the threads, just as Grimmjow clarified, “You can, those fibres are strong and durable, they do the trick. But this is some type of plant material.” His light suddenly got overshadowed when Grimmjow sidled up to him, intimidatingly close. “I know how to take care of myself, yeah?!” He pushed slightly against Grimmjow’s broad chest when it felt like the other was screaming into his ear. “I’m used to surviving, my whole fucking life!...”

He decided not to provoke Grimmjow any longer, he was still wobbly on his legs after all. The muscled body of his Espada remained plastered next to him, which he unconsciously used as support.

He set the needle back down, he was going to focus on his other wounds before sewing his arm back up. It would mainly depend on how much alcohol he had left when he had doused the rest with...disinfection...

But while unwrapping his fingers, he found out the cloth stuck to his nail beds... And every time he tried to peel off the fabric, like a band-aid he was afraid to yank off, he felt like he was trying to dislodge another nail. It burned!...

Grimmjow leaned into him even more and grabbed unto his wrist. His whole point of view was kind of taken away... Which made him push against Grimmjow’s sturdy shoulder to get his Espada to back off again, but then the cloth was ripped off like a band-aid!

He had yelled out in pain while trying to retaliate to Grimmjow with a punch to the other’s rock hard back. But Grimmjow’s solid grip around his wrist remained. “Don’t be such a fucking pussy! I had my whole fucking arm sliced off while you had a fucking manicure!” 

When Grimmjow then grabbed the alcohol, Sousuke tried to get at the bottle first. His nail beds were bleeding again, he didn’t want his raw flesh doused in liquor. With both of them trying to get a hold of the object, it fell down unto the hay. Grimmjow scrambled for the bottle, preventing all the alcohol from ending up in the hay, and Sousuke took advantage of that by pulling his wrist free.

He took to sitting down on the hay, much needed, since his legs had been quaking again. And he motioned at his Espada to give him the bottle of liquor. And only when Grimmjow backed off did he disinfect his fingers. The burn only increased, even while rewrapping his fingers, but he would make sure to swap the bandages before they grew closed along with his nail beds. He did the same to the cuts in his palms. 

There was no fabric stuck to his toe, since he had long since lost the coverage, but his raw flesh seemed to have closed along with the dirt that had accumulated around his smallest toe. He would need to wash it out first...

“How far is that sea?”

Grimmjow had went back to sharpening his blade. “...far...”

That wasn’t very descriptive...

He decided that could wait until he could travel on steady legs himself, without supporting himself on a certain someone...

Lightly dabbing at the wound at the back of his head, the crust probably acted as a decent coverage, so he left it at that. 

He had still quite a bit of alcohol left, even if half of it had spilled into the hay. He took a big gulp, somehow expecting it to be as strong as Kyouraku’s liquor. The burn was there, but even after a couple of more gulps, he didn’t have that slightly tipsy numb feeling happening.

And he couldn’t possibly drink everything.

He would have to bite through the pain...

After making sure that the needle was as sterile as it could get, he was ready. It was the pain maybe, the exhaustion or just plain anticipation of what was to come, because his hands shook uncontrollably while he normally had a steady grip...

Even merely positioning the needle, shot a flare right up his arm. And he took another gulp to wash away the burn.

He heard a tearing sound to see Grimmjow standing in front of the bale of hay. A piece of cloth was offered to him. “Bite unto it.” 

He almost blindingly abided to it, but when Grimmjow took the needle from him and made him scoot up a bit so his Espada could sit on the edge as well, he held the threading out of reach.

“You aren’t going to-”

“I’m sick and tired of watching your weak ass Shinigami fumbling.”

He put a hand on Grimmjow’s muscled arm, as a statement, more than anything else, because strength wise he was nothing against that brute force. “I do not fumble, nor am I weak.” If one looked behind his figurative shackles that was... “Do I have to remind you of the excessive amount of my reiatsu, Grimmjow? For sure you must still be familiar with my suffocatin-”

But Grimmjow didn’t listen, in fact, his Espada was urging him down unto the hay, which made Sousuke lash out with what he hoped was a good placed slap. But besides the smacking sound, it didn’t shook his Espada out of whatever ideals went through him at that moment.

Grimmjow just raised his brow at his useless attempt to get him off, before locking his wrists in one single grip. A particular squeeze to his wrists had him reflexively letting go of the threading.

He could squirm his way from under Grimmjow, but it would take some effort. Grimmjow’s weight felt like a solid rock, even though the other was just hovering over him, no touching besides their hands.

And after all his effort of wrapping his palms and fingers, he didn’t want any of his bandaging to loosen. 

One of his wrists was pushed into the hay, while his other arm, was turned in a way which made Sousuke grab unto Grimmjow in order to make it clear that his limbs weren’t elastic. He was merely repositioned on his side, like a rag doll, while Grimmjow took to straddling his lower legs.

He didn’t look, he didn’t want to see the needle piercing his raw flesh to sew it back up, but he did feel it. The alcohol hadn’t numbed him whatsoever.

And though he struggled, his left arm didn’t budge in Grimmjow’s tight fist. One of his feet was jittering in an attempt to shake off the threading of his wound, as much as it could underneath Grimmjow’s weight.

He only remembered the piece of cloth that he could bite unto when he heard his own near wails.

Nothing really worked to subdue the pain, so he automatically ended up clamping a fist unto Grimmjow’s bicep that he was still seizing. Grimmjow barely seemed to notice if at all...

Grimmjow’s face came pretty close all of a sudden, to bite off a piece of the thread, apparently. And the salty sea breeze that wafted over him momentarily dozed him into a state of tranquility, before the weight of his Espada disappeared.

He was sweating and his chest was heaving, he still had to recover from that.He briefly inspected Grimmjow’s handiwork and had to admit that it looked neat. It lacked the precision that a medic might have used, and the sterility most likely, but it did the job. 

After that, he just welcomed sleep, since exhaustion caught on quickly. And the hay was surprisingly comfortable and warm. He would have otherwise bemoaned his primitive sleeping quarters, but right now, he was content.

\----

When he woke up the second time, Grimmjow was off. So Sousuke took to inspecting the rest of Grimmjow’s hut. In particular, Grimmjow’s weaponry. The bat that he had seen Grimmjow handling, leaned against the wall, while the rest hung in a self-made sheath. 

Even Panthera. The sword was silent and for some reason it had a sort of fracture starting from hilt all the way to around the middle of the blade. In the same way as Kyouka Suigetsu. 

Interesting how Panthera would have adapted to his own zanpakuto. Was the Hogyoku responsible for some sort of connection between him and his Espada? No, that would be impossible. All the injuries that his Espada had sustained, their deaths, while he himself had remained unharmed?...

No... there was no connection. Even if it had been merely as a reaction to the Hogyoku, the orb being destroyed would have annihilated the last of his Espada as well.

He almost startled when Grimmjow came back, but he didn’t hide the fact that he had been inspecting Panthera, in fact he was about to question why Grimmjow wouldn’t carry her around. But when he turned around to face his Espada, he actually startled at the severed head of a boar that Grimmjow held out to him.

“You Shinigami need food, right?”

He nodded absentmindedly when Grimmjow put the dead boar on the ground. Tasty... And with barely any room in the shed, Grimmjow manoeuvred over the dead animal towards him to sheath away another dagger.

When Grimmjow then seated himself unto one of the rocks to light the fire, he warned, “Grimmjow...” foreseeing the whole hut going up in flames, yet for some reason the flames held themselves within the rocky borders. When Grimmjow finally glanced back at him, Sousuke said, “...While I appreciate the effort, Grimmjow-”

“It ain’t any effort, I was hunting Hollows for my own meal, but then that thing came honing in with its tusks...” Grimmjow personated some horns with his fingers on top of his head. “It had to go.” Grimmjow shrugged, before finally noticing he had Panthera in his hand and frankly yanking his zanpakuto back. “She’s broken, she won’t work anymore.” The sword was none too gently plopped back in its sheath on the wall.

Broken? Perhaps the tearing in the sword was responsible for that, yet when he wanted to make that clear to Grimmjow, he promptly forgot what he wanted to say when he saw Grimmjow flaying the animal. “You have to do that inside?!”

“Where the fuck else?! Outside?! I ain’t feeding mah neighbour’s 13 cubs, no way!” 

There would be more than enough, besides as Grimmjow had told him, it hadn’t been any effort after all...

The cadaver of the animal was spit roasted, before Grimmjow left it on the fire and went outside, along with the head and other bits and pieces that wouldn’t be used. 

He sat through the meal, wether he wanted to or not. He had to restore his energy in some form, he was aware of that. But the meat was remarkably smoky and he missed any side dishes that might have added to the single bland taste of meat... 

Grimmjow hadn’t joined him for dinner, lunch...or whatever meal time it was supposed to be.

When Grimmjow did finally return, Sousuke asked to be lead to that sea. It was time to wash away the grime.

\----

“That is no sea, Grimmjow. That is a trench...”

The narrow passageway had a long way to go before reaching the sea.

“Whatever.” Grimmjow growled.

Sousuke minutely glanced at his Espada to see Grimmjow beginning to undress...

“One with questionable water quality...” The moonlight illuminated the waters in the ditch. And yet he couldn’t tell if the water was clear enough to prove of its cleanliness. But the drainage systems running through the lower parts of the Rukongai had to mount out somewhere...

He was about to inform Grimmjow of any health concerns, but Grimmjow’s big tools being uncovered...made him swallow his words. He had thought for sure that those ‘monstrous’ dildos were far off in size, nothing more than a deplorable fantasy.

And it had been flaccid...

Grimmjow diving into the water, made him take a step back when the freezing droplets bit at his skin.

“Is there no other body of water, Grimmjow, like a pond?” 

The trench seemed to have a certain depth, only his Espada’s shoulders and head were visible. “What the Hell’s wrong with this one?!”

“I already told you, questionable water quality.” Did Grimmjow even listen?

“Do infections kill Shinigami?”

“Worst case scenario it will attack the pressure system.” And with his own Reiatsu locked, he would need to be hospitalised to treat his ailing pressure system.

He heard Grimmjow responding with mutters of, ‘Weak ass Shinigami’... and the like.

“Not only Shinigami...” he corrected, because Grimmjow could fall ill with a failing pressure system as well.

Yet he wasn’t answered, instead Grimmjow pointed out, “You’ll come out smelling loads better than ye do now, ya stink!”

Well...he couldn’t contradict Grimmjow with that. 

And how long had Grimmjow been living here anyways and bathing in this...disgusting water? And Grimmjow still seemed fine as far as he could tell plus Grimmjow actually smelled better as well. 

Going in with his wounds would still be against his better judgement, but he decided to take the risk after all. He himself felt far more disgusting at that point.

He undressed quickly and ignored Grimmjow’s blatant staring. He wasn't shy about flaunting his nudes, but compared to Grimmjow’s...size, he did feel slightly...inferior. Especially with the cold water!

His wounds burned... but he chalked it up to the salty water. Yes, it was salty apparently, he found that out while he had inhaled a bit of water, on accident.

Maybe Grimmjow’s analysis on it being sea water wasn’t that far off after all.

But he would never tell Grimmjow that.

On their track back to Grimmjow’s hut, he had asked if he could stay over for a couple of days, just so he had regained enough strength to go on his journey back to district 78, South Rukon. To which Grimmjow shrugged in an affirmative manner.

He was also dressed back into his filthy kimono, but back at Grimmjow’s place, he was allowed to wear his Espada’s clothing. The sweat pants and tank tops weren’t exactly his style of clothing and they were also a little too big. The elastic waistband for some reason didn’t fulfil its purpose because it slipped down from his hips more often than not.

Which might have to do with Grimmjow’s crotch area packing quite the space...

His point of view automatically dropped down as much as his pants in those few days.

There was also little to no interaction between him and Grimmjow. Grimmjow was out more often than at home. His Espada was out hunting or working. Though being a debt collector in the Rukongai translated into the job of a hunter as well...

And Sousuke filled his days with addressing his wounds and exploring the area around Grimmjow’s hut. With a weapon of choice at his side at all times.

He had taken to switching his night routine into his day routine because of Grimmjow’s lifestyle and because of his own disorientation due to his abductors. He himself slept on the bale of hay while Grimmjow preferred the ground... Or at least the animal in Grimmjow did.

For some reason, the lack of a proper routine was surprisingly peaceful. He did wake up plagued with nightmares of Yoshio, but Grimmjow didn’t question him and that was exactly what he needed. Just Grimmjow’s presence was enough.

Because he did feel safe...how odd it even was to connect the term safety to Grimmjow.

After two days though, his stay was cut short abruptly in the middle of the day. Grimmjow had shook him awake and blatantly told him, “Out!”

He despised being woken up in the middle of the night, so he was practically prepared to throw Grimmjow out of his own hut but then Grimmjow’s reason came along, “It’s rutting season.”


	17. Rutting Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: With the Halloween project not catching any interest, To Hell and Back came back sooner. It’s kinktober after all?... 

**Chapter 17: Rutting Season**

The second Aizen was out, Grimmjow dropped down on the bale of hay. Catching some more Z’s was crucial before he would wake up horny as Hell, ready to go. Going on the prowl for a good bitch was tiresome. 

The whole bale stank of Aizen... Stank, not exactly. After those trips to the sea, trench, whatever it even was, Aizen had smelled fresh. And that fresh scent now only thickened the coil in Grimmjow’s stomach. 

He scoffed and crawled to the ground instead. Rutting season had him preferring the cooling dirt over that heated nest anyways.

He didn’t get much sleep though, since the bastard returned. And the fact that Grimmjow was practically blocking the entrance with his body, had the hatch bumping into him. Grimmjow would have murdered the fucker who thought it wise to disrupt his rest, but just the return of Aizen’s scent had Grimmjow reining in on those desires and he left the dagger deep in his pocket.

Yet he did plaster Aizen to the wall, palm wrapped around a lanky neck, he growled, “The fuck are ye doing back here?”

Aizen’s hair was wet, dripping unto his wrist. It wasn’t rain though, he would have smelled that, no, it was the trench. 

So the bastard took a dip into the sea?

Why come back then? Unless the lord forgot something...

Aizen’s eyes dropped down, half lidded and Grimmjow looked around to discern if Aizen had anything lying around. Yet that was when Grimmjow felt a palm trailing along his crotch. His testosterone was already at an all time high during the season, so even a slight breeze sweeping over his dick, would get him hard in no time, let alone a warm hand...

Instead of rutting into the palm, like his instincts required, Grimmjow recoiled back with his hips. Aizen wouldn’t have deliberately done that.

Aizen’s other hand wrapped around Grimmjow’s wrist, and instead of trying to loosen his grip, Aizen cocked his head slightly to the side. Unconsciously showing off a great deal of that throat, which would have otherwise been an act of submission.

If it hadn’t come from a Shinigami that was...

“Let me take care of you, Grimmjow.”

The usual drawl when Aizen called his name was even more prolonged... But somehow it didn’t sound patronising, like it normally did. In fact, his dick was eagerly agreeing with that tone.

Wait... was Aizen proposing to fuck? Or was his mind so far gone that he couldn’t distinguish the difference anymore? “Do you even know what you’re saying, Shinigami?”

Aizen smiled that tricky smile. “I’m well aware of the Hollow customs, Espada.”

Grimmjow doubted that, all Shinigami were dumb in that sense. And yet, it was becoming harder to deny when Aizen’s knee caressed up his legs to nudge against his tented sweatpants. 

His grip around Aizen’s neck had lessened greatly by then, which made it easier for his lordship to move his head. The lips that then practically nuzzled Grimmjow’s wrist had his locked reiatsu raging vigorously. The cool from Aizen’s damp hair should have cleared his head and yet...

“I ain’t looking for a mate,” he warned Aizen, just so that they were clear here. He reapplied his grip around Aizen’s neck, because the tingles from those kisses were distracting. “I’m only looking for a pump and dump.”

Shinigami were clingy after a fuck, bonds and all that shit, no, a hole was all he needed.

But Aizen’s knee was blatantly rubbing against his dick. Ain’t no way that he misunderstood that... 

“Do not worry, Grimmjow,” Fuck! The prolonged stress on his name... Aizen’s voice was sexy, there was that at least. “you don’t need to stress about pulling out.”

Aizen was no female, no danger of someone showing up after a couple of months along with a couple of cubs. But, did he hear that right? Aizen just agreed to being used? 

Grimmjow definitely felt that right, since Aizen’s knee was doing its best to persuade his dick. He had long since broken his promise of ignoring that caress and was rutting back for some more friction.

That Aizen was a Shinigami wasn’t exactly holding him back, he had plenty of Shinigami during those seasons. In fact, sometimes Shinigami could be needier than an actual bitch in heat.

But this was Aizen. The overlord that had done his best to degrade and punish him. The one that had taken advantage of overbearing reiatsu to keep him down was now begging for him?!

He smirked.

If that wasn’t the best sort of revenge... One that came willingly towards him nonetheless. 

Flinging Aizen down, belly first unto the bale of hay, his lordship scrambled unto his back as soon as Grimmjow tried to take those pants down. They were not even two seconds into their fuck or Aizen was already acting difficult. Yet even with all of Aizen’s squirming, the fabric around those hips slipped down easily. 

And for having sat down on that throne so much, Aizen had a damn fuckable ass.

When that nice ass turned around, out of sight, and eased down unto the ground, Grimmjow was ready to drag Aizen back unto position. Bitches in heat at least knew to get obediently on hands and knees instantly.

And Shinigami normally learned fairly quickly to assume a submissive stance, after Grimmjow had to force them... But Aizen though wasn’t like any ordinary Shinigami. So even if he roughly grabbed unto Aizen’s arm, the one that was stabbed, his lordship defied. 

Even better, a good fight before a fuck was the only foreplay he was into. 

Grimmjow couldn’t start that wrestle though when Aizen pawed at his dick. And that was when it dawned: Aizen was on his knees in front of him, and that without the use of any reiatsu...

“If I had known I just had to flash my dick to get you down...” he growled suggestively. 

Yet, Aizen’s eyes crinkled mischievously. Grimmjow was so captivated by the dangerous change of those features that he could barely process the tongue that slid over his sweats. The wet muscle followed the length of his jutting dick diligently. 

Aizen swallowing his cock?

Now that was another hard thing to process. Hollows rarely indulged in so called foreplay, but Grimmjow had experienced a Shinigami or two trying to get his dick down. They were all a jittery and slobbering mess at the sight of his size. But, someone gagging and choking didn’t exactly get Grimmjow closer to nutting. 

Yet, Aizen gagging and choking on his dick... 

The chance of dominating over a so called superior being while getting his dick worshipped? Hell yeah! Age old traditions apparently still did it for him.

Aizen’s eyes were then completely focused down while those lips mouthed wetly at his clothed dick. That warm breath had Grimmjow’s hips spasming automatically for a closer inspection.

Grimmjow grabbed unto Aizen’s damp hair to angle that face upwards. “Where is that big mouth of yours now?” He had enough of that procrastination, he wanted to feel Aizen’s tongue against his skin. Aizen’s mischievous eyes connected with his and those lips opened, probably to sprout his usual holier than though talk... So Grimmjow pulled his sweats down, making his dick proudly spring out.

“Impressive.” Aizen crooned and that warm breath hit the head of his cock teasingly.

He wanted to shove his dick down Aizen’s throat, making Aizen shut up, and yet he still loosened the hold in that brown hair when Aizen inclined his face to get closer on his own. Aizen’s nose then nuzzled into the base of his cock and Grimmjow could feel little kitten licks mapping out territory.

Reapplying pressure at the back of Aizen’s head, Grimmjow made sure to smear the length of his dick over Aizen’s face. Aizen drenched in his musk was the ultimate form of domination.

And Aizen eagerly allowed him, lips puckered and wet, while a tongue peeked out now and then, slathering his dick nicely. Aizen’s palm then returned to join in on the fun, caressing somewhere beyond the base of his cock.

“I see you are compensating for something. Your scrotum doesn’t match the impressiveness, Grimmjow.” Aizen’s voice sent arousing tingles through his length. That deep voice was muffled, but it was still loud and clear. 

Only...“My what?!” all those fucking fancy words... 

“Testicles.” Aizen kneaded somewhere behind his dick, which caused his balls to practically burst through his skin. Which was what Aizen meant, probably, they enlarged when it was time to bust, just like the rest that was attached to it. Aizen thought he was impressive now huh...

Aizen had looked back up at him and the evil glint in those eyes infuriated Grimmjow. He would give Aizen something to grin about.

He yanked Aizen’s head back with the grip he still had in that damp hair, and with nothing blocking the vision of the ground, the quick glimpse of Aizen’s dick begging for attention was making his own leak. Aizen liked that treatment huh?

Great! He grabbed himself and practically shoved his dick in between Aizen’s lips. And that throat tightened up like a vice as soon as he reached the back. The way Aizen’s palm had scrambled up to his abdomen, helplessly pawing at his skin, only increased his satisfaction. The accompanied sound of that throat fighting against his intrusion, which normally didn’t do much for Grimmjow, felt like an achievement.

His lordship sputtering around his dick? He smirked. Yeah, that was the kind of Aizen he liked. 

Not giving Aizen much of a breather, his continuous fucking into Aizen’s mouth made his lordship’s perfect skin glisten with spit. And Aizen’s eyes were just as wet, gone was that resting bitch face, when tears ruined the fierceness behind it.

He ripped Aizen’s head back again, the deep desperate gasps were gorgeous. “Don’t cha worry about my balls, they will be busting deep inside of that ass of yours.” he growled. 

The mess that was Aizen’s face now had him doubting his lordship’s confident claims of wanting this kind of treatment. But Aizen’s dick was still up in the air and glistening just as much as that face.

Grimmjow nudged Aizen’s length with his foot and received a deep moan in return while those hips jutted in a spastic thrust. Aizen’s palm then shot down, taking himself in hand. His rubs were slow and pretty pitiful when the cloth wrapped around those fingers disrupted the smooth movements. Grimmjow was thorn in divesting his attention between those half pumps and those devilish eyes wetted with tears. 

He spat at the thought of Aizen having any sort of effect on him, his saliva would serve as extra lubricant for the bitch. But bad aim had him actually spitting on Aizen’s chin. His spit joined the rest of the slobber, sliding down Aizen’s neck. And all that bitch did was lick his lips.

Was this seriously the same lord that sat on his throne all high and mighty. That demoralising smirk certainly was the same. 

Man, had he missed out on using Aizen to his advantage... No wonder fox face and that justice freak followed that ass around like holy grail.

Time to destroy that satisfied grin again. He thrust his hips forward while shoving Aizen down by the back of his head. Aizen choking on his mouthful was the biggest praise Grimmjow had dared to receive from his lord.

And it was perfect. Better than any fuck he ever had. Maybe it was solely the thrill of dominating Aizen, but he never was this eager to engage into a consensual rut.

Lodging deep into that hot channel and feeling Aizen’s throat constricting made him groan out loud and he twisted his fingers tighter in Aizen’s hair. The palm at his abdomen minutely pawed at his forceful hold and as soon as Grimmjow released his clutch on the crown of Aizen’s head, Aizen’s agile tongue gave a grateful lick along the length of his dick. 

This was for sure not Aizen’s first time taking dick. Hollow sizes were bigger than any Shinigami, it was known. So ain’t no way that any Shinigami could swallow his dick properly, but Aizen was doing a damn good job of trying. Those lips definitely stretched nice and wide.

Aizen’s throat wasn’t relaxed by any means though, but the fact that Aizen merely rested a palm on his abdomen, never hindering his thrusting hips, was enough encouragement. Even as he sped up and furiously pumped in and out of that throat, Aizen fought against his gag reflex. 

It was admirable that Aizen dared to give him that trust. 

He would show Aizen how much he valued that. Pulling Aizen back, he shoved the brunet unto the ground, away from that bale of hay. He wanted Aizen on the ground, completely ripped apart from any principles and writhing in the dirt.

But as he gripped at those hips, ready to pull Aizen unto hands and knees again, that defiance sprang back in. Aizen’s punches were weak though, but those nails had graced along the still healing wound of Grimmjow’s wrist. If the bitch thought that was supposed to be pleasurable, Grimmjow would declaw Aizen’s remaining nails. Cuz that shit was not arousing!

Done with playing nice, he was about to use some real force, yet a handful of dirt being swiped into his eyes momentarily blinded him. A foot into his stomach had Grimmjow down instead and his abdomen were straddled in a momentum. The familiar feeling of Pantera pressed up against his neck made him halt his insistent rubbing in his eyes.

“Are ye fucking deaf, I told ye, she’s broken.” The fact that his dick gave an eager spurt when Aizen adjusted his position so those cheeks rubbed against his dick made him grunt in despair. Traitorous rutting season still found this sexy?

A wrestle was a sure way to get him worked up, but not in that cheating manner... Aizen fought like a sneaky bitch. 

“She’s a sword Grimmjow, that blade can still slice through your skin.” And that evil smile was still going strong while Aizen trailed the sharpest side of the metal over his chest.

Grimmjow refused to twitch under that treatment and helped Aizen grip the handle of Pantera in a sturdier manner. “You actually wanted a match of strength, huh?” He tested Aizen’s grip, which moved fairly easily under the guidance of his palm.

“No, Grimmjow.” this time the drawl of his name was very much patronising. “I’m not going to bend over like a bitch and let you fuck me bloody. That impressive cock of yours would tear me apart,” a truth that made Grimmjow smirk in accomplishment. And to hear Aizen utter the word bitch, a term so filthy when spoken by Aizen’s lips, only increased Grimmjow’s rapture. “I don’t believe you own a tube of lube, do you?”

Bitches in heat were normally already dripping wet and Shinigami males... they had to take what he would give them. Maybe that was why they always screamed like a bitch in the end anyways? 

But before Aizen thought he was gonna change the roles, Grimmjow warned, “I ain’t no bitch, I ain’t gonna let yer tiny dick,” he let out a growl as Aizen slapped the flat of the blade against his stomach. “anywhere near my ass.”

“Who told you that, Grimmjow? Why would I pass up the chance to let this,” Aizen reached behind himself to palm Grimmjow’s still hard length. The fabric of those make-shift bandages felt slightly weird, but it wasn’t enough to dry up the wetness of all the saliva. “make me feel good.”

He was a little confused when Aizen straightened up on his knees and turned around, yet when that ass was shoved closer into his face, Grimmjow was beginning to understand. “Make me nice and wet, Grimmjow, and I’ll be good to you in return.” Aizen’s back bend down again and the heat that surrounded his cock made him groan in Aizen’s ass. 

Taking a hold of the two plump cheeks, he squeezed them apart, revealing that wrinkled hole in between. The scent of sea and Aizen washed over him, so that was why Aizen had made a trip to the sea. The bitch got all clean for him.

He bit at an asscheek in approval which earned him the pleasurable shivers of Aizen’s moan around his dick. Aizen’s flesh jiggled as he let it escape from his teeth and he watched that mesmerising bounce blatantly. 

Why had he never done this type of play before? Foreplay was apparently pretty hot. And though he wasn’t in control, like he preferred, he still dominated the squirming that went through Aizen’s body.

Licking along the cleft, had Aizen’s back arching, jutting out that ass even more into Grimmjow’s face. But actually slathering the hole with his tongue had Aizen twitching back and forth. Debating whether to run away or push back against the onslaught of his wet muscle.

Putting more force behind his tongue, Grimmjow invaded the mess of wrinkled skin and it had Aizen’s hot mouth abruptly leaving his dick to straighten up, which unconsciously plunged Grimmjow’s tongue deeper. He fucked that contracting hole open, absolutely relishing that Aizen teetered on his knees.

At the same time Grimmjow gave a thrust with his hips, begging for his own sort of attention. Yet when that gave him nothing but Aizen squirming further unto his tonguing, he planted a hand right in the middle of that back to push Aizen back into that perfect bend.

Grimmjow then came back for a breather when Aizen tried his best to take him down. The gagging sound only made it better.

Focusing back on Aizen’s ass, that hole looked flushed, completely reddened by the abuse of his tongue. That should be wet enough. Fingering was another thing that Shinigami went wild over, something Grimmjow never bothered with, since the stretch of his dick should be enough.

But Aizen had proved to be worth it so...

He tried to test that with his middle finger and the ring of muscles still resisted against his probing. He spit again, this time hitting his target directly in bull’s eye, which had Aizen twitching abruptly. Before Grimmjow pushed back against the resistance.

It was still tight, but nothing that wouldn’t give after a bit of work. Adding another, his stabbing digits had Aizen practically drawing away from his fingers. But with that ass high up in the air, Grimmjow got to see Aizen’s hard dick and those balls. Which were pronounced, drawn tight with need. 

He nibbled at the wrinkly skin, wondering if Aizen was just as sensitive there. Why he actually cared about Aizen’s pleasure still blew his mind.

He bend Aizen’s dick as far as he could, so he could teach the bitch a thing or two about swallowing. Yet his fingers angled differently which had him bumping into a spongy tissue that had Aizen near howling. Okay, not howling, but his name was sobbed out and that was perhaps the sweetest tone in which Grimmjow had ever heard his name being called out.

Of course Grimmjow abused that spot. And it had Aizen’s hole giving easier.

And instead of focusing on Aizen’s dick, he added tongue to his probing fingers, wanting to feel the relaxed muscles greedily clamping down on him. With that new founded eagerness, it was time to stretch it wider. Dislocating tongue and fingers from Aizen’s warm hole, he pulled up Aizen’s hips and deposited the brunet at his left side. He loved the slurp that accompanied Aizen forfeiting on his blowjob. 

And before Aizen could even try to protest, he perfected the lord’s stance on hands and knees. And then made sure to rub Aizen’s saliva generously over his dick, before positioning to enter.

Breaching his head wasn’t as difficult as the rest though. His dick gradually thickened after the tip and unless he had plunged his whole fucking fist in Aizen, there was no way that that ass would suck in his dick like a vacuum.

Aizen was visibly struggling, only making it harder to drive through. Yet Grimmjow couldn’t deny that those thighs shivering and the ‘Ngh!’ sounds were enhancing his own arousal. Aizen didn’t need to take him to the base anyways, just passed the middle, so he could knot that bitch perfectly.

Grimmjow withdrew only to pop right through again, trying to urge Aizen in taking more each time he repeated that process. Yet with Aizen squirming and grasping into the dirt, Aizen had lost the makeshift bandaging around his fingers, bitch was gonna have a fit when the high of their orgasm subsided...

But Grimmjow didn’t care about that when Aizen’s hole was adjusting nicely, eagerly swallowing more while stretched widely around him. The walls were spasming so fucking perfectly. And Aizen’s gasping, that had taken on a high pitched tone, only made Grimmjow draw back in a harsher manner, just so he could fiercely push back in and experience how needy those sounds could get.

Leaning over Aizen’s bend back, he planted his teeth into a shoulder blade and had to clamp a hand around Aizen’s neck when his lordship tried to escape his bite. Shinigami were sensitive to his teeth, even Aizen apparently. But that guttural cry just made his hips slam harder. 

Grimmjow just needed to implant his teeth into Aizen, like a mark, openly showing the world that he owned that bitch. It was not a mating mark, so it would heal either way, it was just to boast. 

‘Cuz who wouldn’t show off that they had mounted this bitch?

His bend over Aizen gave the illusion that he was fucking deeper, and he sped up his thrusts into that wet channel. Irrevocably increasing the sounds that he slammed out of Aizen.

He practically felt his own balls dropping, filling up so he could flood the bitch. Desperate instinct disorientated his rhythm, before it exploded right into Aizen.

The middle of his dick expanded almost immediately, forcing Aizen’s hole to stretch even wider and ridges planted itself into the wet channel, preventing him from pulling out. Nature was trying to keep his load inside as long as possible, increasing the chance of a fruitful rut.

Aizen palmed his thigh immediately, squeezing in a subliminal message while broken cries came out of those lips.

And even though Aizen’s hips remained still, Grimmjow did hold on to that ass, just to make sure Aizen wouldn’t try to dislodge him. ‘Cuz that shit could hurt both of them. “Relax, my knot needs to ease up. Don’t fucking move or ye’re gonna get torn up.”

Locked tightly as they were, Grimmjow could still feel Aizen trembling, the shaking reverberated right through him. Yet when he glanced down, he actually saw Aizen’s furious stroking. Ah so the bitch was getting off, on his knot... 

Aizen’s contracting hole was squeezing violently, ripping out another spurt of cum from him. It was by far the best rut he ever had! Because even when Aizen splattered the dirt with a puddle of white, his lordship went limp, completely slack. Patiently awaiting for his knot to deflate.

-0-

Byakuya watched Shunsui gaze longingly at the pond that debouched into what used to be Jushiro’s land. “And he has to pay 75 years worth of his pay check?”

Shunsui nodded, still not meeting his eyes. The Council’s latest decision must be a hard one to grasp. “Thanks to the retroactivity.” 

Aizen was in dire need of a punishment. Central had been surprisingly lenient in allowing Aizen to escape Hell and Muken. It was time that the traitor received a true penalty. Yet forcing Aizen to repent in the form of a payment seemed somehow weak. Byakuya could think of better ways to initiate a sanction. 

Shunsui finally looked back at him, only so he could reach his cup of liquor. “The question is, can he afford that?” 

“With all of Aizen’s scrupulous actions, I believe theft would be the least wicked.”

“Sousuke doesn’t steal.” Shunsui said and did connect their eyes then, the questionable glance his superior threw him, made Byakuya practically roll his eyes at the blatant faith Shunsui had in someone like Aizen.

Vindicating criminal behaviour had a limit. Aizen was more than capable of murder and in so was most definitely capable of any lesser crimes.

“If he doesn’t have any leftover savings stuffed somewhere that is. Perhaps searches should be conducted in Hueco Mundo to make sure he’s not hiding any-”

“Central already robbed him of that...” Shunsui snorted a laugh. “technically I did actually. So any money he has right now is earned throughout ‘working’.” his superior quoted with a gesture of doubt.

Byakuya averted their gaze, since Aizen was illegally obtaining money throughout their sessions. Aizen hadn’t blabbered his mouth and tried to ruin his reputation yet. But with the former lord’s absence, Byakuya would like to establish some rules between them before continuing. Since he would in no way like to be connected to Aizen’s money laundering.

Azashiro was going through the noble houses, scouring for the latest scandal in order to take any opposing noble families out of commission.

All that extra stress needed an outlet, he needed to find Aizen soon.

He tensed up even more when he felt the pressure of his lieutenant nearing. And no sooner, Renji’s amiable voice filled the room. 

“Ah! Oi Captain Commander, nice seeing you here.” Renji then specifically turned towards him to give him a bow. “Kuchiki-taicho.” even though outside of the office Renji was not required to call him captain.

That obedience was remarkable though which made it that much harder and painful to remind himself that Renji was unattainable.

He did not deign to give Renji more than a side-eye in return. Out of uniform, Renji’s gorgeous bronze skin, beautifully decorated with ink, would be on display for all to see. Something that belonged to Rukia now...

He would have preferred to dismiss Renji, yet Shunsui had more manners than Byakuya could be bothered to bring forth at that moment and an invitation to their ‘tea’-time followed soon. 

And to his luck, Shunsui was taking up both of the cushions on the opposite side, preferring to rest his feet on the second seat, so the drunkard had a full view of the pond. Which forced Renji to sit next to Byakuya.

He could feel the hesitation in Renji’s reiatsu, but the fiery redhead was too softhearted to deny an invitation and therefore carefully inhabited the space next to him. That nervousness shone through when Renji wanted to pour himself some tea as well and the porcelain clattered loudly.

Shunsui merely glanced at Renji’s fumbling before giving Byakuya a cheeky wink.

That fool!! This was anything but pleasant. If Shunsui wasn’t his superior in both rank and status, he would have long since put the other noble in his place.

“Help the dear boy, Byakuya-kun, I think Renji’s pressure system is about to combust.”

Byakuya balked at the thought, refusing to even look in the direction of their table anymore, since Shunsui’s teasing was becoming bold. 

Renji was jittery because his lieutenant could no doubt feel the detachment regarding his person in Byakuya’s reiatsu. Byakuya did that on purpose, so he could mask any affinity towards his underling/brother by bond. 

Besides he was sure that Shunsui would step in either way, if only to magnify the differences in courtesy between them. And not a minute later Shunsui was cleaning the spilled tea.

“I’m a damn klutz sometimes.” Renji bemoaned.

Byakuya refused to answer that as well.

Shunsui’s gaze had fallen back unto the pond and with the sudden silence, Renji just couldn’t seem to appreciate the zen like quality it brought, since he just had to say, “I know, it’s weird that someone else lives there now.”

Shunsui’s head snapped back in an instant.

The look that Shunsui graced him with made Byakuya guess that Shunsui had actually forsaken to attend the latest noble council... He would have preferred to tell Shunsui in a far more subtle manner, but of course Renji had also not been aware.

“You mean in Jushiro’s...”

Byakuya felt Renji’s gaze now burning into him as well, practically begging him to help in addressing the fact that, “Azashiro Soya has taken entrance into the estate, deeming the Ukitake family to be of low ranking descent-” he halted when Shunsui’s fists had come crashing into the table, making all of the porcelain cups give out a squeak of protest. 

In a matter of a flash step, he and Renji were suddenly left sitting alone. To which Renji started to apologise furiously. 

It was not Renji’s fault, not by any means. In fact, Shunsui should learn to take responsibility of his noble duties.

...That man will never learn...

He held out a hand when Renji didn’t seem to understand his silence, and so his lieutenant excused himself awkwardly, no doubt happy to flee from him.

With all that tension having build up, he was going to try and visit Aizen for another session.

\----

The rage that went through Shunsui, knowing that his best friend’s final resting place had been disturbed by the likes of Azashiro consumed him as a whole. He invaded the former Ukitake estate, right passed any maids that tried to stop him in vain.

Everything had changed, the furniture, the decoration and most importantly, the atmosphere. Gone were the tangible memories when all that remained were the impressions in his mind.

The rage only increased when he saw Soya’s smug face and of course the man was accompanied by his equally as unfavourable companion: Tokinada.

To see them standing in Jushiro’s home, where his best friend would be awaiting his arrival. The place where he had comforted Jushiro after he had had another uncontrollable fit of coughing, the place where they sought solace in each other, the place where they had had frivolous fun, without being burdened by their statuses, the place where he had unabashedly enjoyed Jushiro’s laughter...

He couldn’t close their distance entirely and shove Azashiro against the nearest extravagant noble banner when he was held back by an invisible barrier.

Azashiro’s Bankai could take on any form. It was like an odourless, tasteless poison. And even now, even though Shunsui couldn’t see it or feel it, he was being held back, kidou-less, as if it was child-play.

That was the reason why Azashiro had been locked up in Muken in the first place. Surpassing even Aizen’s greatest ability: neutralising senses, Azashiro in charge of Soul Society’s best interests, would not end in the common Shinigami’s best interest.

“What are you doing in his house?”

“His house?” Tokinada cackled which made Shunsui’s fists tighten at his sides.

Azashiro remained his calm self, yet the satisfied smirk in those eyes was visible, even from where Shunsui stood. “Only top tier nobility are able to buy perpetual land, and I believe Ukitake was not one of them. Of course, one could have foreseen that, since you do belong to the top tier...for now. But...alas.” Azashiro averted his attention back to the box he had been rummaging through, casually focusing on moving in...

The threat was noted, but it didn’t do Shunsui much. His status had never been of his concern, it had been more of a liability actually. Especially when he was younger and urged to follow the rules.

No, it was Azashiro’s inhibited disregard for Jushiro as a person that infuriated him. His reiatsu was trying to test the invisible boundaries...yet...even without any direct focus on him, Azashiro’s shield remained strong.

Tokinada did seem slightly nervous to his increasing reiatsu and took a subtle step behind Azashiro.

“Where is all the furniture?!” he demanded, never minding that Azashiro was now in control of not only Central 46, but also the noble council most likely. 

“We sold it back to the Ukitake family.” Azashiro replied dismissively after contemplating the measurements for the next fancy banner.

Sold it back?! Ukitake’s family was not exactly Rukon poor, but Azashiro had most definitely taken advantage of the sentimental value the family would take to that furniture and would have upped the price accordingly...

“Including his shrine?!” he so hoped that was the case, so he still had one palpable reminder of his friend.

Shunsui had to wait a while before Azashiro graced him with a reply, “Of course.”

-0-

They hadn’t even left Grimmjow’s shack properly or Sousuke was already shoved against the nearest wall. He specifically tried to keep his head from meeting the wall, since Grimmjow’s tugging at his hair had reopened the crust.

Yet their wild tumbles on the ground had him aching in more places than he wished to admit. Grimmjow in rutting season had been everything Sousuke had imagined, and everything he didn’t know he needed...

“Is that so?” Grimmjow growled intimidatingly into his face while making sure their lower halves were squished against each other. The beginnings of a now familiar bulge poking against his hip was making Sousuke’s knees weak.

“We were making our way to the sea.” he reminded Grimmjow. Because as much as he had craved Grimmjow’s gigantic tool, he was a little too sore to go another round. Of course he shouldn’t provoke Grimmjow either, but it was delightful to see his Espada get all riled up. There was something raw and powerful about Grimmjow’s Alpha side.

And when Grimmjow smirked in return, showing off those dangerous incisors, that Sousuke had felt practically everywhere nicking his skin, he had to look away just so he could not be tempted to give in. 

It had been pure, raw passion, without a form of a contract, and it made him slightly resent the fact that he couldn’t have taken that course with Kyouraku or the Kuchiki. Not that he could complain in terms of pleasure, at least not with Kyouraku, the older man had been wonderful. Yet, with Byakuya it had been slightly more pain mixed into the pleasure, more so than with Grimmjow. Which was saying something when keeping Grimmjow’s species in mind... 

“Slap my ass again and I’ll be slapping that hungry hole of yours.” Grimmjow then tugged at the waistband of his pants.

If his Espada kept doing that, the string would be of no use anymore, the fabric was stretched beyond its normal capacity already.

Yet at those words, Sousuke felt his sphincter clench around nothing at all. Which was a miracle in itself because after Grimmjow’s drive through, all that was left was a gaping mess and he rather didn’t want to think about that.

“I would like to wash myself, Grimmjow.” he answered instead and it had Grimmjow scoffing but backing off.

During their walk over to the trench, he tried to walk as normal as possible, even though every step sent an ache through his nether regions. It could have easily interfered with his reaction capacity, but Grimmjow was more than alert for the both of them.

Taking the lead, Grimmjow was looking down every alleyway every corner they encountered. “Ye smell loads better now.” Grimmjow growled after a while. 

A load of Grimmjow to be specific, which made sense why that would be preferable for Grimmjow’s species. Yet, Sousuke was not only eager to wash away the scent of sex, but his wounds had been jostled and the dirt of the ground had crawled into every crevice. The burning in his fingertips alone was already an infection waiting to happen. 

He was long since not worried about the quality of the water anymore, besides the cold, he had no qualms about submerging himself.

Someone that was not affected by the cold was Grimmjow’s thick, long, hard... His staring did not go unnoticed. 

“It’s rutting season, bitch.” Grimmjow yelled proudly which had Sousuke shaking his head at the absurdity. Instincts did not freeze at all, apparently. 

“You should be fulfilled, Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow’s canines appeared and Sousuke knew a raunchy comeback was about to come his way, even before Grimmjow said, “And you should be filled.”

Grimmjow waded towards him and Sousuke allowed his smug Espada to encircle his waist. It seemed like Grimmjow was a lot more approachable when his instincts reigned. He truly had the characteristics of a feline, cat like creatures only came for affection whenever it pleased them...

And even though Grimmjow only did it to fling Sousuke a few feet further into the water, he appreciated the somewhat playful side, a nice extension to that rough exterior. Or Grimmjow just needed an excuse to touch him... 

Grimmjow then dove after him, grabbing unto him again, while Sousuke struggled as much, making it as difficult as he could. He had tried to use the edge of the trench as leverage, but his grip slipped due to Grimmjow’s strength.

When he raised his hand back into Grimmjow’s direction to push off of a sturdy shoulder, Grimmjow actually flinched back, and the roaring laughter that followed had Sousuke confused until Grimmjow admitted, “I thought you were about to blind me with sand again...”

“Next time I use mint, a substance that does actually eliminate your eyesight longer than a few seconds.”

“Bitch where?! There’s no fucking mint here.”

He splashed water into Grimmjow’s face which turned out to be Sousuke’s cue to escape. As pleasant as this Grimmjow was, Sousuke would actually appreciate some rest and the chance to rewrap his wounds again.

He dried himself with the clothes Grimmjow had been wearing while his Espada was still acting like a fool in the trench.

Sitting down at the edge, he waited until Grimmjow was done, even though he could have easily found his way back. Or even started moving along, he was pretty much healed up and could muster up the track back to Inuzuri. 

But the sunlight bounded nicely off of Grimmjow’s muscles, the water that dripped down enhanced that raw virility visibly. 

In the midst of his admiration he heard what sounded like a child screaming. Which wouldn’t be the first time what with Rukon’s fight to survive mentality, but the sheer terror and pain in that cry just shot through Sousuke.

The trench laid in a somewhat abandoned area, no sign of a community nearby, and that created opportunity for the sick and twisted.

Maybe it was the strain of his exhaustion catching up, but he followed the screaming. Which became insistent the closer he got. The clear pain throughout that wailing gave him goosebumps.

He eventually came upon a clearing, where a giant stake seemed to be lit on fire while a Soul was bound to it, hence the screaming...

The spectators around it were chanting something as if they were standing around a bonfire. They all were wearing those dark blue robes. It was the sect that he had seen gathering a few times now.

But they had kept it pretty civilised until then.

The screaming that went through bone and marrow moved him forward, yet he startled as he was grabbed by the arm. “It ain’t our business.” Grimmjow growled and dragged him away.

-0-

Shinji had already knocked on the door of the first division, not receiving an answer, but feeling the presence of the Captain Commander anyways, he peeked his head inside. Yet the sight of Kyouraku entranced with a picture while grasping a full glass of liquor in the other hand, made Shinji withdrew. 

He would come back another day.

But he hadn’t closed the door properly yet or he heard Kyouraku yell, “Nonsense, come on in!” 

The picture was hidden in a drawer, but Shinji could have sworn it had been an image of Ukitake. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Kyouraku and Ukitake had been close...

So he had wanted to encourage Kyouraku to mourn his best friend properly with a, ‘No shame in carin’’... but he kind of swallowed his words as he was motioned to take a seat. 

“How is the burn?”

The question, although asked by a multitude of people each day, still caught Shinji off guard each time and he scrambled to make sure his mask was still in place. And then he just cut to the chase of why he was here, the perfect prevention to avoid any questions about his ruination. “Yer Aizen’s supervisor of sorts, right?”

He had mulled over it constantly, to the point where he just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. He had tried to be one step ahead of Aizen in the past and his Hollowfication had been the result of that. So he needed to rely on someone else’s opinion for a change.

So he enlightened Kyouraku about how Aizen had picked up on his stalking habits again, how the bane of his existence had followed him to the Blue Inn and how it had irreversibly lead to another scar, this time visibly, that he would carry for life.

“It’s not a coincidence, not with Aizen. He’s aware about the fifth’s responsibilities, obviously. The dragon was consciously dropped there, and I was meant to take care of it. And fail...” he held out his hands to make a point. Still feeling beyond fuelled by the constant thoughts going through his mind. 

Kyouraku had lounged back in his chair and the only sort of response Shinji got was Kyouraku indecisively nodding once in a while.

“It’s not that far fetched, think about it, magic and immortality go hand in hand, and that’s what Aizen is after.” his hands motioned in every direction as if he needed to point it out to Kyouraku in order to make it believable. 

“Then why involve you?”

What kind of question was that?! “‘cuz he’s obsessed with me! Obviously! He wants to ruin me!”

“Sousuke,” Shinji snorted at the familiarity that Kyouraku used with Aizen, sure this was Kyouraku who didn’t give a fuck about the polite forms when addressing someone, friend or foe, but Aizen could very well take advantage of that fact. Like with anythin’. “had refused Bach’s offer to join him, why would he suddenly side with Soul Society West Branch?”

“I just told you, immortality.” Completely wound up as he was, he started unconsciously picking at the scar underneath his mask. “Aizen is damn good at makin’ people think he’s all good an’ shit, but he’s not. And since his reputation goes far and beyond here already, he’s tryin’ to take his own magic elsewhere!” 

He would have thought that Kyouraku could see passed the superficial goodness in people, especially in Aizen, but it seemed like even the Captain Commander had fallen for Aizen’s tricks again.

With Kyouraku just looking into his glass of liquor and sloshing the contents around, Shinji continued, “I don’ know about you, but I haven’t seen him since. He’s plannin’ mark my words!” 

He was suddenly aware that he was scratching at his scar and he forced his hands beneath his knees instead, although his agitation made it itself known again and he started playing with his tongue-ring. At least that was unnoticeable by anyone else, not that Kyouraku was paying any attention to him. 

In fact, Kyouraku took a swig, before finally questioning, “In the instances that he followed you, was that the real Sousuke?”

It was actually. Even though the situation had felt similar, this had been the real Aizen, a 100%. The fake lieutenant Aizen that had followed him around had had a different vibe around him, small mannerisms that had been completely out of character or even something as stupid as the wrong scent had betrayed him.

No, this had been Aizen, definitely.

“And genuine remorse is out of the question?”

All of Shinji’s jittery nerves stopped all of a sudden, before exploding in a flurry of heated words, “Are ye fuckin’ kiddin’ me?! This is Aizen we’re talkin’ about! There’s nothin’ genuine about him!”

Kyouraku just kept watching him silently which made Shinji feel ashamed about his outburst in an instant. “Sorry...” he mumbled. “It’s just, it’s so fuckin’ unfair, I was tryin’ ta pick up my life again and then this happens!” he gestured at his mask and hated the fact that his eyes were beginning to water.

Aizen, it always came back to Aizen...

And now he was even being pathetic in front of the Captain Commander, he waved his hand dismissively and stood up, ready to bolt, but Kyouraku’s speedy flash-step forced him back down into the chair again. Or it had been the large palm that had squeezed him down by the shoulder, since he just sacked back. 

“Here, have a drink, there’s no shame in showing your frustrations.” he wanted nothing to do with the glass of cognac that made him think of the Blue Inn, something he had given up as well. And something he irrevocably blamed Aizen for, of course... 

But the drink did shush his concerns...

“Sousuke has been MIA for a couple of days now, I have to give you that.” Kyouraku said as he was slowly making his way back to his chair behind the mahogany desk. “But Sousuke won’t reveal himself unless he’s baited. Go back to the places where you encountered Sousuke, perhaps he’s lurking somewhere around there...” 

Go back to the Blue Inn? As what, a spectator? He rather didn’t want to see anyone else taking place behind the piano...

“But keep it discreet, Central is not allowed to be informed of Sousuke’s hiding tricks.”

-0-

Somehow the screaming still haunted Sousuke as he went for a rest. He couldn’t close his eyes or he saw the image of that burning child. Children had been a soft spot ever since he had hired low life criminals to forage particles of Souls for the Hogyoku.

Never did he condone the destruction of Souls, whether it had been a Purge or for his own gain, such as the orb. Which was why he had hired others to do it for him.

Finding out that Rangiku had suffered throughout rape, and in so her Soul had split, had made Sousuke take in Gin as a form of regret. And yet that compassion had taken him nowhere when Gin turned against him regardless...

He glanced over at Grimmjow who couldn’t seem to find his rest either, but it was for a whole other reason. His Espada was laying down in the dirt, palms fumbling with that big rod that didn’t seem to go down whatsoever...

Sliding from the bale of hay, he crawled over Grimmjow’s heated form, despite the ache in his ass. It was certain to get his mind off of that horrible display. Besides, it surprised him that Grimmjow hadn’t abandoned him, on the lookout for another rut.

That loyalty needed to be rewarded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I only have four fictions left and I finished three fics this year! Never mind the statistics, I’m proud of myself, those are the only statistics I go by! 
> 
> A/N: After all the smut I have already written, I don’t believe I ever included a 69, or...I’m already forgetting... damn... Grimmjow, you lucky dog...cat. 


	18. Mine!

**Chapter 18: Mine!**

Kisuke took swabs around the broken window of Aizen’s neighbour. Someone had broken into Aizen’s studio-flat, or that was at least the impression that a fleeing Aizen was trying to leave behind. 

The impenetrable door that Aizen had been gifted with, had the ‘housebreakers’ preferring entry throughout the ramshackle door of Aizen’s neighbour instead, so ‘they’ then got access to Aizen throughout the adjacent windows. 

“I’m gonna get a compensation from those fuckers of Central, right?!”

Kisuke quickly glanced at the resident of the flat.

He would be the last person to comment about another’s appearance, but personal hygiene should at least be a priority. Or that was always drilled into him by Yoruichi and the likes whenever he kept locking himself up in his lab for weeks on end. And he had to give her credit, because the filthy clothes the man wore, and the untamed hairdo and beard, made Kisuke unconsciously finger his own goatee that had gotten slightly out of control...

Not to mention the smell surrounding the people or what seemed to linger in the flat itself. It suspiciously smelled like marijuana...

He wisely didn’t look twice at the state of the two women on the futon, whom looked barely able to comprehend the presence of him and Kyouraku.

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Kyouraku denied frivolously while canting his straw hat in the direction of the two women. “Good-evening ladies.”

Kisuke quickly finished up packing away the swabs, before following Kyouraku out. All the while ignoring the man’s death stare.

If one had to count on Central’s support...one was better off praying on a miracle. Honestly the man should be aware of that already, what with living in Inuzuri...

Life in Soul Society wasn’t fair. 

When Kyouraku then casually entered Aizen’s studio-flat, Kisuke could only think about the key that the Captain Commander had in his possession. Which wasn’t fair either, what exactly warranted Kyouraku owning that key? Kyouraku had been upgraded from forcing his way in to simply being handed over a duplicate of Aizen’s key.

The state of Aizen’s flat itself definitely showed signs of breaking and entering. What little furniture that Aizen had was smashed and everything was ripped out of the cupboards. And there was of course the state of the window. The shutters were destroyed in a similar manner as that of the neighbour.

As per request of Kyouraku, Kisuke did begin taking swabs of the mess. Even though it completely conflicted with his own theory of Aizen’s absence. 

He was even mildly annoyed that Kyouraku interfered to pick up one of the kimono that had been ripped apart. It was a very colourful fabric, something he couldn’t exactly picture Aizen in.

“He hasn’t been here in two weeks...” Kisuke raised an eyebrow as Kyouraku caressed the fabric.

Another gift? 

He promptly decided to share his own opinion about Aizen’s grant disappearance. “Doesn’t it seem odd that his neighbour instantly demands a compensation?”

The remaining fabric was dropped in the bin. “Have you seen the state of that poor Soul?” Kyouraku asked breezily.

“Exactly. I don’t want to make a generalisation,” but he really was. Kyouraku even gave him a knowing smile. “but, normally it’s such a struggle to get entry into the homes of such people. You know that when they see a Gotei official, they don’t really view us as a salvation.”

More often those sort of beings would rely on self-sufficiency to the point where they would even sell their own children if it meant saving their ass. And really, depending on the Gotei was pretty much suicide. Most of these poor families were in one way or another tied to illegal activities.

“It just seems like he had been bribed...” Kisuke definitely avoided Kyouraku’s gaze now. “..by someone to tell us that story...”

“And could that someone be,” The way Kyouraku glided smoothly over to him made Kisuke focus so deeply unto the remains of a chair, that he might as well have smelled the fingerprints... Kyouraku crouched down next to him and turned towards him with the eye that was covered with an eyepatch. “...Sousuke?” 

Kisuke couldn’t really see Kyouraku’s expression, but he could hear the playful quirk in his tone. “Does that honestly sound unbelievable when Aizen has faked his own death before?” he griped back before standing up.

He looked haphazardly through the room, it would be a wonder if he could match the DNA with the ones they possessed in the twelfth. Most of the stored DNA originated from beings that now inhabited either The Maggots Nest, Muken or Hell. And they weren’t or hadn’t gone anywhere...

Yet, he was only expecting one specific match to come up. Aizen had to have orchestrated all of this.

“He can be a little sly and devious.” Kyouraku chuckled. 

A little? 

That was by far an understatement. He really should give up on trying to understand Kyouraku’s sentiment... but perhaps it was all that drinking that had caught up, making the Captain Commander forget about Aizen’s long list of acts.

A reminder was long since due. “The killing of Central 46-”

“I don’t know about you,” Kyouraku invaded his space again and Kisuke hated the other’s leverage of height, it made him feel small and insignificant. “but sometimes I feel murderous intent towards some of Central’s members as well.”

He loathed that he could agree with that. The proper question here would be, who didn’t?

But,...“But you don’t actually do it.” Kisuke encouraged awkwardly.

Condemning all 46 members and slaughtering them in cold blood when most of them also had had a family...could never be commended as an heroic act.

There was only one eye looking into his own, but it was practically peering into his Soul.

He could give better examples though, ones that couldn’t be validated whatsoever. “What about the Hollowfications and the sacrificed Souls that Aizen used for the Hogyoku?” 

When Kyouraku’s hand palmed his shoulder, it felt more or less sympathetic instead of supportive. “It always intrigued me what you exactly used as a basis to form the orb.” 

He wasn’t proud of the Hogyoku’s creation, never would be. And he would never attempt to recreate such a thing, but he also never used innocent Souls. “I’m not like Aizen, I’m not.” was all he could attempt to get out.

-0-

Grimmjow was on his way back home after his round of debt collecting.

Rutting season normally prevented him from stacking any loot. His dick would generally be busting through his sweats every minute, but being able to breed more than a couple of times definitely kept him sane and satiated.

Because Aizen had put out the entire fucking week, and he was still hanging around. Not that Grimmjow was complaining. Having a bitch on standby was essential to get throughout the season. 

Would Aizen stay the whole fucking time though? Or more importantly, would he want Aizen to stay?

When they weren’t fucking, they weren’t exactly in each other’s face. Except when his heat acted up and he just needed Aizen close.

Whatever, ain’t no reason to break his head over it, he would just take it as it went. If Aizen left, fine, if Aizen stayed, great. 

“I got you some more disinfectant.” he thrust the bottle at Aizen the second he set a foot in his shack.

Here he was even spending some of his loot on the likes of Aizen...

“If this was truly disinfectant, Grimmjow, then I know someone who’s been thoroughly cleaned from head to toe.” 

Aizen beckoned him over and Grimmjow warily took a place on the rock. Just ‘cuz he bred the bitch didn’t mean that he trusted Aizen...

When he felt something burning into his shoulder, he elbowed Aizen out of the way and was about to swing the bat in Aizen’s direction, but Aizen’s, “Grimmjow.” stopped him. “I’m merely cleaning the wound that you acquired.” Aizen gestured with the cloth he had in his hand. The smell of the disinfectant wafted off of it.

Right the stab wound. “Some fucker wasn’t prepared to pay up, until I knocked his damn teeth out...” he swung with the bat once again.

“Who are you working for, Grimmjow?”

Grimmjow hissed as Aizen dabbed the wound with the cloth. This was the second time that he was being nursed back to health by Aizen. Not that he was now severely wounded... Why even bother with that nurturing nature, like a fucking mate...

He twisted back so he could make eye-contact, “Definitely no lord or king.” he grinned. Never would he get back down on his knees for another, never would he call another; superior again. 

“As I thought so, you’re working for a syndicate, Grimmjow. Have you forgotten how you were practically disembowelled?”

He straightened up in an instant so he could butt their heads together. “Because they were after you, you fucking bitch!” Aizen better not forget that. He ain’t stupid, the fact that Aizen was on the run and now hiding for them explained it. “That’s why you’re taking care of me, isn’t it. ‘Cuz you’re sorry.” he ripped the cloth from Aizen’s grasp and shoved him against the wall. 

Aizen met his glower with that infuriating smile, not backing down at all. “If I truly could have cared less, you would have rotted away in my flat, simple as that.”

“I can actually let you rot away here, ain’t nobody that would care about you.” he growled in response, but Aizen’s hand glided over his dick. A dick move, honestly, ‘cuz his body acted accordingly. He palmed Aizen’s hand, putting some more pressure behind the caress. “No need to schmooze your way unto my dick, ‘tis the season after all.”

And as Aizen pushed him back down on the rock, only to straddle him afterwards, Grimmjow had already entirely forgotten the near scuffle they had had...

-0-

“There’s no report, ‘cuz I haven’t seen him.” Shinji shrugged, hands stuck deep in his hakama.

Shunsui rather preferred direct communication instead of another report anyways.

Kisuke had send him a whole hypothesis...and Shunsui had yet to even browse through it. Because it was no doubt filled with the scientist’s speculations of which Kisuke had already more or less informed him of. He couldn’t deny that Kisuke’s theory about Sousuke’s wild nightlife, was intriguing and kind of flattering, seeing as he was the one responsible for Sousuke’s drinking and orgasms. But...that would no doubt cost him his credibility as Captain Commander. 

He had not only asked Shinji to hunt down Sousuke, but he had accumulated Sousuke’s favourite past ‘victims’. If there was anyone who could bait and track down Sousuke, he had thought it to be either Shinji, Kisuke or Ichigo. But none of them had had any luck yet.

Ah well...it was worth a try.

But, there was something that did bother him about Kisuke’s story, Sousuke had apparently claimed that he had been assaulted, which turned out to be a lie, luckily. Yet he couldn’t help but be a little worried that Sousuke had been prepared to frame him as a rapist. Even though it had been very much consensual between them...

The contract and his status would play in his favour either way, yet being labeled as a rapist did prevent any future escapades...

Because such gossip went around fast. 

And then there was Sousuke’s door that had been broken down, which was claimed as vandalism to Shunsui.

He honestly really didn’t know what to believe anymore.

As he was about to nod in order to dismiss Shinji, the projection of Queen Mary alerted him. Without even touching the image to allow sound to breach through their barriers, the Queen’s voice resounded through the room.

“Captain Commander,”

“Queen Mary,” he welcomed with outstretched hands, but she didn’t even acknowledge his welcoming and continued as if he hadn’t interfered her.

“there is but one thing us witches and wizards abhor most and that is liars. Our reliable source from within Soul Society East Branch has given us reason to believe...”

Shinji had made motions of leaving but had turned around quickly at that, fleetingly meeting Shunsui’s gaze.

“that you were not only in possession of our dragon, but that you also decapitated it and showed off its remains through the streets as a prize.”

“If I may-” he tried to conciliate, but she would have none of it. In fact, it might be a recorded footage, since she didn’t even seem to be looking him right in the eye.

“This has deeply offended us and you will reap what you sow. Soul Society West Branch therefore declares war, I will give you exactly one week to gather your forces.” The projection then disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

“Are ye fuckin’ shittin’ me...”

Yeah, well, Shunsui couldn’t have said it any better. The Seireitei had barley even recovered from Bach’s invasion...and they were already expecting the next war... 

“A Captain’s meeting in two.” he told Shinji. “I first have to announce the good news to Central...”

Yet Shinji wasn’t really prepared to go on his way. “I don’t wanna be paranoid and shit, but Aizen’s vanishing act is lookin’ really suspicious now.”

Sadly, it was.

He himself had speculated on a traitor in their midst, but amongst the disappearance of Sousuke, he hadn’t really looked at the signals that pointed head on at Sousuke.

-0- 

Why did Aizen always have to wash away his scent? Grimmjow absolutely despised that. Aizen should be proudly bearing his scent, but the damn Shinigami was so finicky about staying clean... 

And as Alpha, he should be telling Aizen what to do, not the other way around!

He was about to yank Aizen back by those loose pants, when smack in the middle of the road they were approached by Kurosaki.

“Aizen?”

Kurosaki Ichigo had joined the ranks of the Shinigami army, enveloped by open arms, while Grimmjow was shunned. And that while the boy had less experience in surviving than Grimmjow. 

Solely for that Grimmjow would be persevering on their rematch.

But now that the boy was casually invading his territory, he might just snap sooner...“Back off, Kurosaki!” He shoved Kurosaki away, reiatsu-less though, it didn’t do more than make the boy recoil back. 

“What the Hell is your problem?!”

“You’re my fucking problem!” he growled back.

Over his dead body that he would give away Aizen to Kurosaki. Aizen was his rut, the boy needed to find his damn own. He then blocked Kurosaki’s entire reach to Aizen by stepping in front of the lord. 

“I’m talking to Aizen, Grimmjow.” Kurosaki’s fierce reiatsu was practically filling the alleyway, and while Grimmjow couldn’t challenge that pressure with his own, he still wasn’t going down without a fight. 

Only Aizen wouldn’t listen either and did step around him to reach Kurosaki once again.

Dammit!

The boy’s glower left him for a second to tell Aizen, “Kyouraku is looking for you.”

Kyouraku... The name did ring a bell, but Grimmjow couldn’t put a face on it. Besides, Kurosaki was the one he had to look out for, his rival, in more than just strength apparently. 

“Who the fuck cares!” he snapped and was about to pull Aizen back, but the brunet held up a hand.

“He is?” Aizen questioned.

Was this some sort of secret language between the two?! His eyes swept over both of them, trying to catch any secretive glances, but Kurosaki was still keeping an eye on him as well. “Come on!” Taking Aizen by the arm either way, he was about to drag his rut with him.

Aizen wanted to go to the sea right? 

But Aizen resisted and he saw Kurosaki palming the sheath of his zanpakuto. Heh! If Kurosaki was flexing, he could as well! He jutted his palm down a pocket, feeling the familiar metal of the dagger...

“Grimmjow,” he reluctantly looked back at Aizen, afraid to let Kurosaki out of his eyesight for even one second. “I need to go back to civilisation right now.”

What?! What the fuck was that supposed to mean.

“It was fun while it lasted, but, I have other priorities.”

Like Hell Aizen had! Taking a hold of Aizen’s arm, Grimmjow tried to pull him along again, yet when the bitch squirmed out of his grip, he revealed his dagger. 

Knowing Aizen’s pride and what not, his lord probably wanted a match to prove their worth. 

“Okay! You want me to beat his ass?!” He was about to advance on Kurosaki, when he was the one who got held back. 

“This is not a competition, _Grimmjow_.”

Again with that patronising tone...

Then what the fuck did Aizen want?! Aizen’s so called knowledge about Hollow customs was jack shit! 

His own pride was taking a beating as well, his own damn rut was willingly running away with another Alpha...

He wasn’t about to take an L and he certainly wasn’t about to boast about that, but he also realised that going after Kurosaki with a dagger, would result in his loss either way. Kurosaki wasn’t just any street-rat.

Yet he wasn’t giving up on his claim either, he would be dragging Aizen back!

-0-

“What was that all about?” Ichigo was still stubbornly turning back to get a glimpse at Grimmjow behind them. 

Grimmjow had been a nice distraction, but Sousuke couldn’t entirely dismiss the Devil’s pact. As much as he had appreciated the chance to forget about the necessity of his reiatsu, he still resented the opportunity to remind others of his superiority.

“Never mind that.” Sousuke encouraged. “You mentioned that Kyouraku was looking for me?”

Now that came as a surprise. He was having a positive influence on the Captain Commander if the man was beginning to miss him. He would have judged his progress with Kyouraku as not yet eligible for actual romancing. But, perhaps Kyouraku was beginning to **care**. 

“Yeah...” Ichigo replied eloquently.

Walking the quiet, dirty streets, Sousuke felt much more secure in Ichigo’s presence, just knowing that sheer pressure was keeping everyone at a distance. The young man wasn’t even on high alert, like Grimmjow’s instincts were. 

“I can only deem it as flattering when I’m placed as a first priority when someone of your calibre is send out to embark on a hide and seek search.”

It took a while before Ichigo finally answered. “I wasn’t actually looking... You know that my division’s responsibilities don’t lie in the Rukon districts...”

Well of course, he had made that known to the youngster before.

“I was actually investigating something else... but then I found you.” Ichigo admitted with a quick glance at him. “The thing is, you didn’t...well...not really...how do I say that...” 

He raised a brow, patiently awaiting for the slur of words to string along into a proper sentence.

“I borrow powers from Shirosaki because reaching out with reiatsu remains difficult and so I rely on my sense of smell for example.” Ichigo glanced at him again and the rosy dust on those cheeks highlighted brightly throughout the dull surroundings around them. “And you don’t smell like you. You smell like...Grimmjow...”

Ah well...

He chuckled and gestured dismissively at Ichigo’s suspicious glower. “Wouldn’t you as well if you can imagine Grimmjow’s living conditions.”

“Why would you be living with Grimmjow in the first place?”

He couldn’t blame Ichigo for asking that question. But admitting that even someone like himself was in need of a break was perhaps not exactly believable. And owning up to the incident...much less.

The truth was that he forgot the pressure of adhering to everyone’s image of him. Upholding his own reputation of the most powerful, especially now without reiatsu, was pretty tiring. Without any sort of superficial mask or a mirror, he wasn’t reminded of the role he needed to measure up to. And so Grimmjow’s shack had unceremoniously served as a psychological refresher, and not just as a physical recovery.

He didn’t tell Ichigo about what had actually happened, even though the young man would be no doubt ecstatic to play the grand hero... “We had some unfinished matters to discuss.” In fact Ichigo’s less than admirable attention-span hadn’t picked up on the fabric around his fingers or his arm. Then again, he must have looked to be in a deplorable state regardless of his makeshift bandaging. 

The clothes, like rags hanging off of his body, his hair, besides a brush through with his fingers, hadn’t seen an actual comb in weeks...

As much as he needed that time off, now it was time to return to civilisation indeed.

A Hellbutterfly began fluttering around Ichigo, the message it brought required Ichigo’s presence in the 13th division asap, since Rukia would be attending a captain’s meeting. The messenger was then redirected towards Kyouraku along with the words, ‘Lost Soul has been found.’

Their pace picked up and their conversation kind of dwindled down into nothingness until they reached the first division where Ichigo dropped him off.

But before Kurosaki could Shunpo away, Sousuke questioned, “Perhaps we can further our outing soon?”

The young man, while previously near impatient to take him out, seemed a lot less enthusiastic. “Yeah...maybe...” Was all the response he got before Ichigo quickly left.

Perhaps the white lie about Gimmjow wasn’t exactly convincing enough...what with the Hollow inside of Ichigo...

He was meant to wait on Kyouraku, but he wasn’t exactly left alone in the office. Nanao Ise kept scrutinising his presence, arms crossed over each other and nose in the air, she kept an eye on him like a hawk.

A bathroom break was his escape to some privacy yet when met by his own appearance he could understand the suspicion. He did truly look like he had been run through by a Hollow. A quick wash up at a sink wouldn’t cut it by far, but he could at least make himself somewhat presentable.

He tousled his hair in a somewhat decent style, yet in his defence, since entering Muken, his hair was just flopped over in a free-fall manner. It definitely wasn’t as perfectly slicked back as it used to be, unless he particularly felt like it.

When Kyouraku finally arrived, Sousuke had expected the man to envelop him in an embrace as soon as Nanao was urged into her own office. But Kyouraku just slunk behind his desk, apparently also not that fond of his return...

But after all the hours he had spent with Kyouraku, he was not allowing their progress to regress. He therefore took a seat on the edge of the man’s desk, making sure that one of his knees touched Kyouraku’s.

And to make it the Captain Commander a little easier to accept his company, Sousuke poured Kyouraku a cup of his favourite liquor.

Kyouraku’s eye took in the state of him and with a heavy sigh the man told him, “I need to attend a captain’s meeting...”

“Some courage then...” Sousuke conceded after the drink was already poured. The liquor wasn’t lost anyways, not with Kyouraku.

Some of Kyouraku’s nonchalance thankfully returned when the man trailed a couple of fingers across Sousuke’s exposed hipbone. The waistband had slipped once again... “I have to ask, are you in contact with someone of Soul Society West Branch?”

Of all the accusations, that, was the least of what Sousuke had foreseen coming his way.

“Excuse me?” Sousuke felt Kyouraku trying to pull his waistband up in vain. And with the man’s eye focused downwards, he pulled up Kyouraku’s chin again. “How could I possibly come in contact with another Realm when I’m not even allowed to leave this one?” 

The Janitor would pick up on him regardless of his locked reiatsu. And outrunning the sweeper without any use of Shunpo would likely not end well for him.

He was relieved when Kyouraku leaned into his touch, but that was also the moment that Kyouraku became aware of the fabric around his fingers. His palm was taking into a bigger and warmer hand, before the makeshift bandaging was pried apart...

It still felt sensitive when Kyouraku swiped a thumb over his missing nails...but it was gentle... “Sousuke...where have you been?”

Perhaps it was Kyouraku’s penetrating gaze, but Sousuke felt compelled to tell the truth. His sob story would maybe even force Kyouraku to take their contract a step further... or so he presumed...

He certainly shouldn’t overdo his emotions while unfolding the gist of being held captive, but somehow reliving that experience had him choked up before he could even comprehend his weakness.

Kyouraku kissed the tips of his fingers subtly, along with a whispered, “I shouldn’t have doubted you...”

And even though Sousuke appreciated that nice gesture, he still took back his palm so he could dry those easygoing tears. Because this was humiliating, it was supposed to be an act, he shouldn’t be affected by it. 

When Kyouraku only played further in on his emotions by grasping his wrists so he could open his arms for that long awaited hug, Sousuke was prepared to push himself away from that sturdy chest. Yet Kyouraku would have none of it.

The scent of liquor that seemed to surround Kyouraku had never felt as soothing as it did at that moment. 

Until a knock resounded on the door and Nanao’s voice alerted them of, “The captains have assembled.”

He felt Kyouraku nodding, but for fear of revealing his tear streaked face, Sousuke kept being smooshed into that embrace.

Their hold on each other didn’t let up immediately...but unfortunately, it couldn’t last either.

“I suggest you stay here and when I’m back I’ll accompany you to a hotel. You’re no longer staying in Inuzuri.”

Now that would have been an advancement in their relationship, it was a token that Kyouraku certainly cared. But unfortunately it was anything but Kyouraku’s willingness to deepen their connection when apparently someone had broken into his apartment. Which could have only been Yoshio’s followers...

Well what better way for Kyouraku to show that he cared by taking him in? That would put him almost directly in the source of all suitors he was pursuing. And it was most definitely a better environment than he had been forced to get used to... 

Yet when he came forth with his suggestion, Kyouraku shook his head. “I can’t take you into the Kyouraku estate. But we’ll discuss it afterwards.” before the man continued to the door that lead into the assembly room. 

He wasn’t allowing Kyouraku to get rid of him that fast.

Because with Kyouraku’s normally easygoing nature, that rejection... “With the amount of rooms in your estate I believe it would be hard indeed to find a suitable spare room...” the sarcasm lay on a little too thick than he had intended... but it did genuinely hurt.

And when he followed along, Kyouraku explicitly halted on opening the double doors. “The current climate in the Seireitei and in the noble district would not allow me to house you.”

“No. But renting a room so you can visit me like I’m your personal courtesan certainly does benefit you.”

Kyouraku heaved a sigh and gestured in a mitigating manner, “We will be discussing this afterwards.” 

“No.” he told the man resolutely and palmed Kyouraku’s hands that were preparing to open the doors. “You’re not going to shove me aside as one of your bed wenches, Kyouraku-san, we will be discussing this right now.”

“Lister here,” Sousuke turned his head, not feeling particularly inclined to meet Kyouraku’s warm caress on his cheek. “the Seireitei is at the brink of war, my men need me.”

At war, bless the Soul that had finally decided to step up against the injustice of it all. That needed to be celebrated, not oppressed.

“**I** need **you**.” he countered. But he was suddenly enveloped in another tight hug and although he was aware that Kyouraku was steering them away from the doors, he had already claimed it as a victory until Kyouraku stepped away and Sousuke was unable to move his legs in order to follow.

That...bastard!

The cheerful wave that Kyouraku gave him when entering the assembly hall only infuriated him even more.

\----

Shunsui cleared his throat, loudly announcing, “Ah wonderful, you’re all here already.” to prevent Sousuke from giving away his presence in his office, should the young man decide to vocalise his unfair treatment.

But the room had been noisy on its own. The Visoreds were fervently discussing their current situation, apparently Shinji had enlightened them already while Kenpachi was provoking Byakuya as always.

He cleared his throat again, along with a sliver of reiatsu to declare his arrival, and this time, he did gain everyone’s attention. 

“Queen Mary of Soul Society West Branch, has declared war. At least she was courteous enough to follow protocols and warn us in advance and generous enough to give us one week to prepare for an onslaught of dragons.” 

Mayuri’s gleeful resident smirk widened drastically and Kenpachi seemed ready to roar motivational war quotes while the rest, luckily, were a lot let enthusiastic. Not everyone had forgotten their last casualties yet.

Which was the hardest part about war. And that thought hadn’t sprang to the forefront of his mind until he had stood beside Jushiro, ready to face their downfall. Losing a loved one, all for the sake of society’s diplomatic or political decisions, was a sacrifice of its own. One that became hard to bear at the brink of that reality. 

Yet now, without Jushiro by his side, Mary’s declaration hadn’t managed to have an impact at all. Perhaps now he had nothing to lose...

“If she isn’t lying that is, we could already be surrounded without knowing, just like previously with the Quincies.” Toshiro said. 

The boy had grown quite a bit since the last war. Both in maturity and appearance. There certainly could be truth to his statement. But Queen Mary had made it clear how she felt about shams, she therefore wouldn’t hold any pretences herself.

Of course, one thing Shunsui had learned throughout his own experiences was that anything was possible in love and war.

“We’ll know immediately!” Mayuri sprouted delightfully. “I’ve designed the Wikka detector and after calibrations I assure you that no witch or wizard will go undetected.”

“Let the witch hunts begin!” Kenpachi roared.

While Shinji rightfully so tried to temper down Mayuri’s excitement. “What about the dragons, what chu gonna do about that? I ain’t gonna let my whole body be burned into a freakin’ crisp.”

“Show off yer scars like a man,” Kenpachi boasted with a deliberate pull on his haori as if no-one had seen the ones littered on his chest. “and don’t hide them behind a mask like a fucking cu-!”

Shinji seemed ready to cross over to the opposite side and reveal his appreciation for Kenpachi’s ‘advice’.

Which was exactly what they didn’t need; scuffles amongst themselves...

But Mayuri was quick to overthrow Kenpachi’s voice, preventing a war outbreak in the assembly room. “The twelfth is working on armour, specifically designed to protect against the potent dragon fire. Those dragon’s scales came in handy...” he trailed off in a crazy snicker.

If the dragon wasn’t butchered up to serve as Mayuri’s experiment, they wouldn’t have stood on the edge of war in the first place...

And while it sounded all very promising, Central had made something particularly alarming known to Shunsui about Mayuri’s fantastic gear, “Something that has come to my notice is that there won’t be enough armour for the whole Gotei, much less for the whole population...”

“Naturally, we’ll have to be selective...” Mayuri shrugged comically.

As was standard protocol for the Seireitei, the issue lied in the fact that Central would be making that ‘objective’ selection...

\----

After a while, Kyouraku’s shadows relented and Sousuke was about to leave the first division in a fury when Urahara seemed to be awaiting him outside. Oh great!... 

He tried to nonchalantly pass by Urahara, “I have to disappoint you if you’re here for Kyouraku-san, he’s unavailable at the moment.”

Yet Urahara’s reasoning halted him altogether. “I’m not here for him.”

Which was what Sousuke was afraid of.

Urahara casually entered the first division and Sousuke waited outside for the reappearance of the mock scientist. They would likely make their way to the 12th division, even though Urahara’s shoulder-bag indicated that he had everything on hand.

The blond head peeked out of the door not a minute later, along with a gesture to usher him inside as well. “Ise-san is allowing us to use Kyouraku-san’s desk.”

“Use Kyouraku’s desk...” Sousuke repeated in a particular salacious tone. “I’ve not even fully settled back in or I’m already being propositioned by you...”

Urahara nodded indecisively in an annoyed manner while putting his gadgets at the ready. At a second glance though, Urahara said, “And my... Sousuke... your choice of ensembles is...very interesting. But if you were planning to disguise yourself as a wizard, I’m gonna give you a tip; try to use more fabric next time.”

As if it was magic, his pants did demonstrate it’s preference for gravitation... It was time to get back in his own clothes...

“I wonder who comes up with these conspiracy theories about me... Yet let me give you a tip in return, Urahara-san, I wouldn’t make it this obvious and I certainly wouldn’t rob my own flat.”

“Just like you wouldn’t fake your own death...” Urahara replied sardonically.

“With the power of Kyouka Suigetsu anything was possible, yes, but now I would have to rely on my own senses. Would I truly maim myself,” rather than telling Urahara the story, he revealed his fingers. “simply to overthrow your impressions of me?” 

Urahara took a hold of his hand to inspect his fingers up close. A lot less gentler than Kyouraku when Urahara rubbed over his raw flesh which made Sousuke practically jerk his arm back.

Instead of compassion, Urahara deadpanned, “Nails grow back.” and yet those grey eyes steadfastly avoided his own... 

“Oh I see... Why don’t you give me a pair of pliers so I can demonstrate on yours the _lovely _sensations it accompanied and while at it, make sure you can’t access your reiatsu in order to diminish the excruciating burn. And do not dare to heal it afterwards, the phantom feeling of your nail beds being torn to shreds can be enjoyed for days on end.” 

Urahara seemingly dismissed his hand with a nudge and took a hold of the suction cups.

Sousuke then uncovered the fabric around his arm. “Perhaps stabbing myself is just a form of me looking for attention, specifically your attention, but, don’t take my word for it of course. Anything to convince you of my sincerity, right, perhaps next time I’ll slit my throat?”

His threaded stab wound was barely even glanced at.

“You’ve been dealt with stab wounds since you entered the life of a Shinigami, such is the way of a Shinigami. I wouldn’t say one gets desensitised, but it does make it easier to expect what’s coming.”

Urahara’s justifications seemed to be barely hanging on a thread by then, the blond was blinded with hate apparently. Yes, the initial pain would always be there, overpowering pressure or not, but the comfort of rapidly regenerating tissue could not be appreciated fully until one experienced the opposite. 

“Perhaps when you have a particular knack for hardcore masochism.” Sousuke agreed. “I don’t need to tell you that just few actually did manage to lay a finger on me at the height of my reign. But as I mentioned before, without reiatsu, and I know this is still hard for you to grasp, I would not stoop so low as to harm myself.”

Urahara motioned with the cups and Sousuke eased out of his loosely hanging tank top because convincing the other not to do the reading was a lost cause. “But before you activate the machine, let me forewarn you of what results you will encounter; a lot of peaks of pleasure... But don’t mind my explanation for it, I’m actually quite curious what your assumption will be.” Sousuke could practically see the speculative gears turning in that blond head as Urahara’s eyes were glued to the piece of paper that was gradually generated throughout the machine’s measuring.

“A trip to your hidden boyfriend, followed by bouts of violent sex?” Urahara mused under a laugh.

“I am not asking for your fantasy.” Sousuke countered and Urahara flung the paper aside before crossing his arms over his white coat. 

“Alright fine, tell me your side of the story.”

“I was held captive.” Urahara’s downright reluctance to even try to accept the truth, greatly diminished Sousuke’s incentive to remain truthful about his captivity. Urahara wanted a lie, Urahara would get a lie. “I was forced to pleasure myself.” and just like that his dishonesty weaved a tale of its own. It suddenly also became a lot harder to fake his emotions as well. While he involuntarily had burst out in tears in front of Kyouraku, he now had to practically force his hurt. His near glacial expression might not be completely for naught because it did seem to render Urahara speechless. Or maybe it was the subject itself, being held against his will in a sex trafficking ring was maybe the least probable to happen and yet that sucked Urahara in like a moth to a flame.

Lying never felt as exhausting as it did right then and there. He would have gladly returned to Grimmjow’s shack and live out the rest of his life as a nobody. Trading in his vast reputation for a life of anonymity never felt as welcome as it did then. Never mind he would lose his chance of luxury on the throne, because he had surprisingly done well without all those extras...

“Anyways...” he cut the story short at a certain point when Urahara seemed eager to interrogate him further. And he stood up to retrieve the rag that consisted of his sleeveless shirt. “If you don’t mind, I need to find myself a new flat.”

Going back to Inuzuri would be beyond foolish. He didn’t want to admit to his fear, but mortality had never felt as palpable as it did in the face of danger.

“How are you going to pay that?”

Still with the suspicion?...

He should have lied again, but he didn’t feel as inclined to fabricate a story about that. In fact maybe it was pure masochism on his part at that point, but he owned up to his safe in the forrest of East Rukon.

Of course, he never told about the origins of that money. His sessions with both Kyouraku and Kuchiki were better left under wraps.

But he was curious, was Urahara truly ready to rip away his last shred of self-sufficiency?

Instead of Urahara leaving him with nothing, it was fate that determined his path a lost cause, “The forrest has been completely burned to a crisp.” 

No... he truly was left standing on the street, forced to either return to his flat, waiting on Yoshio’s followers or accept Kyouraku’s ‘generous’ offer.

“Because of the dragon you know.” Urahara’s accusatory look had lessened and those eyes seem to roam his person for the truth.

“Dragon? How in the world could a dragon have possibly entered the gates unnoticeably?”

“Exactly...” 

Perhaps the blue robed beings weren’t just a child murdering cult... He contemplated mentioning the gatherings...but then Urahara said, “Listen, I rent this cottage near the borders of East Seireitei, I’m rarely ever there, since I’m mostly locked up in the lab, but maybe for the time being...”

Sousuke was about to fling himself around Urahara’s neck, even before the offer had left the other’s mouth. To have his vulnerability be simply accepted while the opposite seemed much more probable, was...flattering. He would show Urahara how much he valued that new-founded faith in him.

Yet Urahara’s cramped reaction of tensing up and awkwardly returning the hug while Sousuke had already retreated, kind of ended with himself haphazardly pulling on his already too wide waistband, while Urahara busied himself with raking a hand through his hair.

That had been an awkward exchange...

“But I’m telling you now, if I find out that you’ve been lying to me, you’re out, understood?!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way from you, Urahara-san.” besides, by that time, he would have long since left Urahara’s home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fun fact: With To Hell and Back already reaching easily over 100K words, I just had to split up Aizen’s suitors in pairs for me personally. So when I needed to reread a certain character’s scene, it would be a lot more practical to weave through the sea of words, lol. And I took Kyouraku/Byakuya moments together, Urahara/Shinji ones, Grimmjow/Ichigo ones and as last the scenes where Aizen is completely solo. I don’t think it comes of as a surprise that Kyouraku/Byakuya moments top all the other pairs by far, Kyouraku has a lot of screen time, not gonna lie, and of course with both of the aristocrats already having had the luck of two smut scenes with Aizen, that only increases the number for them. Because, let me tell you, smut fills up a chapter quickly! 


End file.
